our last cat. He died fourteen years ago. He was a Siamese-alley cat. We used to jokingly say "his mother committed a slight indiscretion". He was a silver tabby with the shape and personality of a Siamese.
The vet loved him too.
"I know you think I am just saying it because I say it about every cat," he told us, "But this one has personality plus. He talks to me!"
And our little cat did "talk" in all sorts of ways. He could communicate. He would sit in the doorway of my bedroom and I would ask,
"What do you want?"
Then, as if he understood the question, he would head for the kitchen and wait for a snack or head for the area where he was brushed and wait for me to brush him - or he would simply come in and jump on my lap for a short cuddle.
If I was not home he would follow my father around the garden or sit and watch my mother do the ironing. In fine weather he would sleep under the rosemary bush and come in smelling of warm fur and rosemary.
He was, apparently, not interested in catching prey. When a bird was badly stunned flying into a window and lay, apparently lifeless, on the ground he brought it in and put it at the feet of my mother. He looked up at her with a single "meow" - as if to say, "Can you do something to help?"
In the evenings he would sit on my mother's lap while she knitted and hold the yarn, quite gently, between his front paws. He never chewed it or played with it. It was as if he knew that it was something one of his humans was working on. Oh yes, he owned us. We did not own him.
He had a companion for years, another cat who was wicked and mischevious and much more demanding. I still remember the awful sound our little cat made when his companion died. After that he became even more closely attached to us.
He slept, on his own towel, at the foot of my bed.
The night he did not want to do that I knew he was ready to go. The vet refused to charge us anything. He was weeping too.
Our former neighbour was sent home from work after the death of their cat. He was a big, strong male who did not appear to be particularly interested in - let alone fond of - their cat. He came home and shamefacedly admitted that he had broken down telling his boss about it - and his boss had the sense to realise he needed at least a day off.#
I still miss our little cat. I really do. I really sympathise when, as has just happened, someone I know loses an animal they love.
If an animal owns you then you will know what I mean. If you are not owned by another animal then please just try and understand.