by Viv Corridor

Created on: July 16, 2008

If Bob could have talked, his personal catch phrase surely would have been "You did the right thing, Mom." Throughout 17 years, whenever my spirit failed and I doubted myself, this cat's gentle comfort always reassured me that I had done the right thing.

Whether it was changing careers, moving hundreds of miles from my parents, marrying a man that everyone said was wrong for me, bringing a baby into the world despite my doctor's dire predictions, or making the painful choice to take my brain-dead father off life support, all my major life decisions were made on the bedrock of Bob's unconditional love.

Bob's stomach has always been the barometer of his health.

As a young cat, his stomach was taut. His sides rippled with muscle and he was a sleek thing of beauty. In middle age, he developed a mature cat paunch, a saggy flap of skin that wagged adorably when he walked. When he became a senior, a very OLD senior, the paunch disappeared as age and illness whittled him down, skinnier and skinnier with each passing year.

So when I noticed a distinct bulge in Bob's stomach - sides that had been sunken in for years were suddenly round and puffy - I could only wonder what this meant for the current status of Bob's health. And take him to the vet.

Fluid, she said. Building up in his abdomen. Likely the by-product of cancer gone undetected and unchecked for some time. Draining it might be a temporary help, but inevitably the fluid would return. Ultimately, it would crush vital organs, squeeze his lungs, slow his breath, stop his heart. After 17 years of loyalty and love, Bob faced a slow, painful death.

Call me melodramatic if you like, but this cat saved my life - more than once and in more than one way. He came into my life at a time when I was deeply depressed, emotionally isolated, feeling old before my time. He infused my life with love, acceptance, energy and youth in those early days. Later, when a gas leak erupted in my apartment in the early morning hours one night, Bob woke me up, relentlessly harassing me out of bed until I walked into the kitchen and discovered the leak that might otherwise have killed me.

When my husband came into my life, so "wrong" for me in so many ways, it was Bob's stamp of approval that convinced me to continue seeing this guy. Countless boyfriends had come and gone, failing the "Bob Test." ("Oh! You have a cat!" Voice dripping with distaste.) When I met the man who would one day be my husband, within seconds of his butt hitting my couch for

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