Oh I’m another one, I adore cats. Our last old boy was a Bengal, very sleek, hugely energetic (my mother in law compared him to a racehorse) full of cheeky character, with the most weird and loud meow you ever heard. He was a stray, possibly abandoned by an unscrupulous breeder, near our daughter’s rental house in London when she was at university there. He moved in with her as soon as she fed him. Enquires were made, no one reported him missing, and he wasn’t microchipped. So she kept him. When she finished university she brought him home, and he remained with us after that, even though our daughter moved out.
Last year, after thirteen years with us, he developed tumours and died. I miss him, and our other cats so much. We decided not to get another cat at this time, as we were travelling a lot, although we have wonderful neighbours who cared for him when we weren’t here. However, during the Coronavirus crisis, I missed having a cat so much more. They are such a comfort and so good for mental health. In my low moments, I would have loved to have been able to just sit and stroke our Leopard cat.