t's been five years since my son Sean presented Marbles, a cat, to my wife. He and his wife had adopted Marbles from a shelter when she was believed to be three years old, and she shared their household for eight years, but they were no longer able to shelter her due to Sean's wife having developed an allergy to furred pets.

My wife was delighted, as she was familiar with Marbles from occasional visits to our son's home. Marble was extremely people friendly and throughout our sixty years of marriage we always seemed to have a cat as a family member. I, however, did not share the pleasure of ownership. While my wife adored her pets, I was indifferent and although we shared the same household, both the pets and myself kept a distance from each other.

Unlike most cats in new surroundings, Marbles didn't hide in a closet or under a bed, but walked from room to room investigating every corner. She seemed very comfortable in her new home and after a few days we renamed her “Tara” which seemed more befitting. Although my wife, Marge, fed and brushed her coat daily, Tara surprisingly chose to bond with me. She would leave her bed in Marge's bedroom and come mewing at my door each morning at approximately 5 A.M. until I begrudgingly

let her into the room.

Upon entry she would briefly claw at the rug with a few meows in greeting and look up at me as though to discern my mood. Finding no objection, she would jump onto the bed and sit next to me and tap my arm or shoulder twice. If she sensed an inviting expression, she would lie on my chest, purring loudly, otherwise she would lie at the foot of the bed until I arose.

Whatever defenses I had toward felines, quickly melted away. I was entranced with her perceptiveness and intelligence. Tara was quick to learn and obey many commands such as, “Don't do that,” (spoken softly, when she would claw at furniture),”Get down!”(when she would jump on a table or desk,) “No!,” (When she was being naughty,) “It's time!” (This command was given only on two successive nights at my bed time. In the future, she would amazingly leave my room for the rest of the night when she sensed I was going to retire without a word from me.)

As I would move from one room to another, Tara would walk before me, anticipating my direction, glancing occasionally over her shoulder to make sure of my direction, much as a seeing eye dog might. Because of our disabilities, both Marge and I are forced to spend a good deal of time in our respective beds. When I enter Marge's room for discussion, Tara, perhaps in her own bed or elsewhere in the house,would immediately jump on Marge's bed, to join us in what we call “A Family Discussion..”

Unfortunately there will be no further “Family Discussions.” Tara became very ill and we had to have a veterinarian put her to sleep. Our home feels barren, but we both feel blessed for the time Tara lived with us. We were concerned that Tara might outlive us and have to be placed in a shelter which would have been detrimental to her. She was very happy during the five years spent in our home. Marge is very overjoyed that I had a bonding experience before my last days. She regrets that Tara didn't form more of a bond with her. As much as she cherished her past experiences with former pets, none showed the degree of interaction that Tara has shown. Although Tara had her moments of feline independence and stubbornness, she was very attuned to humans. We have often commented that if she had vocal cords, we would have had some interesting conversations.

Post Note: After ten days of severe illness, Tara, although in a weakened state, attempted her usual behavior. She felt no pain when put to sleep. I am glad that we can humanely end a terminal illness in our pets, but often wonder why we can”t extend this to our fellow human beings!