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I have an animal companion (i believe that the term pet is now not politically correct). He is a ginger cat called Henri, he earned his Native American name  (Henri Thunderpaws) because of his lack of lightness of paws when jumping down from things.  I had not intended to have a cat but he was about to meet the great vet in the sky and my son persuaded me to step in and save one of his feline lives.   Once convinced i went shopping and spent a lot of money on cat paraphernalia and then we went to collect our new house guest.  Upon arriving at home the ungrateful beast wriggled and squirmed and escaped!!.  For four days I left food at the front door and occasionally I I caught a glimpse of a little ginger furball darting away.  I moved the food dish to the windowsill where I could keep watch  and the next time I saw him I moved the food into the hall and then into the kitchen, he followed and bam, he was trapped.  Then I began to worry that it wasn’t the kitten we had rescued but my son had taken a photo of him so after comparisons were made we happily welcomed him to his new home.   Now he rules the house, he’s a very vocal cat and very fussy about his food but I love how he calls to me in the morning when it’s time to get up and how he announces his return after a wander outside with lots of meowing and then a leap into my lap to have a snooze.  I love my cat and I think he loves me.

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