In my lifetime, I've loved many cats in my day... Calicos, tabbies, mutts, Siamese, etc., etc. I have always loved cats. We lived out in the country when I was a little girl. I used to go out into the woods and the backyard to catch the feral cats that liked to hang around. I would catch them and they'd scratch the h*ll out of me. But I didn't care. I would come in with scratches all over my arms and face, but slowly and surely, I tamed those cats and we would become fast friends. 

My husband (Dave) laughs at me and tells me I must have a cat radar. If there's a cat around, I'm going to be the first to spot it, speak to it, and get it to come over and let me pet it. Dave, on the other hand, tends to scare them away. I, on the other hand, am a self-proclaimed cat whisperer.

I have known only two cats who have hated me... and when I say hate, I mean wanted to kill me... but the feeling was mutual and that's a story for another time.

I say all this to tell you about a particular cat. The cat I own now... Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy (Mr. Darcy, Darce or Darcy for short). I bought him back in 2010. I'd always wanted a Ragdoll. This was before I started dating Dave. I lived alone and I was in desperate need of company... so I found Mr. Darcy. He was the last of his litter and a sort of "ugly duckling" to be honest with you. He was nine months old, but I knew he was something special. 

This animal has so much character! He plays fetch with me, does back flips, hangs from doorknobs to open doors, claps his hands together to kill flies, and if he feels I'm not being affectionate enough, he'll come over and pet my face or grab my butt as I walk by. 

Before I was diagnosed, he would come into the bathroom with me and stare me down while I did my business. Once the disease hit, I started locking him out. I was in a lot of pain and didn't want to be bothered. There were some days where I would cry out and bang on the walls in pain. He knew something was wrong. One day right after my diagnosis, I was lying down, hurting and scared and he started gently kneading my abdomen and purring loudly. He's done that during several other flareups, too! I really think he knows when something is wrong. 

Mr. Darcy has never met a person he didn't like. He welcomes everyone with open paws and demands to be the center of attention. Everyone who meets him loves him, comments on how big and beautiful he is... they also think he's a girl... but anyway. He's my baby and has been there for me when I needed someone to snuggle. I love that little ball of fluff... even if he does get on my nerves sometimes.