When people first think about loyal pets, most no doubt picture a dog in
their minds. Dogs are known for their obedience and loyalty to their human
masters. Most people don't consider the cat, possibly because they mistake
"obedient" with "loyal", and cats are renown for being disobedient to the
point of being bloody minded. But that doesn't mean they aren't loyal, they
are. And I think they are even more loyal than dogs, because they are being
loyal out of their own free will, not because the are trying to please their
masters or they can be "trained" to appear so.

It was a long and difficult evening with Cary last night. Joel and I both
sick with some sort of chest infection that Cary brought home with him from
pre-school. He went through it last week, but as a kid, can rest when he
needs to, and doens't need to do responsible things like go to work and look
after kids. We've both suffered from a gross lack of sleep due to repeated
bouts of coughing through the night, and during the day we both seem to gasp
for breath at any form of exertion. Fortunatley, though, Cary has been fine,
which, unfortunatley, means he is running around like normal and needs us to
run around after him. As such, by the evening we were utterly exhausted and
pretty much at the end of our tether.

*Eventually* Cary fell asleep and quiet fell across the house again. We both
sat there for a little while, just resting. Shmogg jumped up in my lap and
settled in, purring as I absent mindedly stroked him. And he reminded me
what loyalty was about.

He was yelled at not an hour before for yowling, and distracting Cary from
the task of falling asleep. He was squirted with water too. Earlier in the
day, Cary managed to get hold of his tail and pulled really hard before I
could seperate enthusiastic child and hissing cat. He has been mostly put on
the back burner now that Cary is around, which I regret but can't do much
about, and has stoicly put up with his house being invaded by a D-thing, a
maniac kitten and indeed, a barekitten that seems to think that he's the
bees knees. I ignore him, don't change the litter often enough, don't feed
him often enough (at least for him) and even yell at him on occasion when
he's getting really annoying, and yet, here he was, on my lap, purring away.

I thought what he'd been through in his 15 years. An almost fatal bout of
tapeworm, a horrid flea infection which left him partially furless (his
bellynever fully recovering), being relocated far more times than a cat
should have to put up with, me splitting up with his first Paw, me finding
and marrying a secong Paw, some of the B*st*rd Hoomin tricks I"ve pulled on
him, and yet, despite it all, he had taken it upon himself to sit upon my
lap, and purr for me. Indeed, he followed me to bed, and like every night
for, well, as long as we've lived here, he curled up beside me at purred me
to sleep. I hadn't told nor asked him to come upon my lap, I have never
*trained* him to sleep by my side each night. His presence on my lap, like
place on my bed, are his decisons and his alone. And I feel truly blessed.

Shmoggleberry has stuck with me, through thick and thin. Like any couple, we
have our ups and downs, and there are little things about us that drive each
other nuts. But underlying the petty day-to-day things, there is a rock
solid relationship of love, and indeed, loyalty. The other pets (and
barekitten) are very much "ours" but Shmoggleberry is most defiantley only
*my* cat, or perhaps that should be that only *I* have the priveledge of
being his human. It is a honour I truly treasure.

Yowie