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When I was a young adult still living with my parents, we had a cat that we oh so originally called "Kitty". Kitty became my best friend and followed me all over the house. When I was a kid, she even followed me to school. She slept with me everynight. and was my best buddy. When I would do my homework she would sit on my desk, with her tail twitching away on my paper as I feverishly studied or daydreamed into the distance.

When I became a young adult, my parents started going on vacation together. Kitty had a routine of waking my father up every morning by staring at him. And if that didn't work, she would sit on his alarm clock until it rang and paw my father's hand as he reached over to turn off the alarm. She knew who got up the earliest in our home, and who fed her the tuna and hamburger several times a day.

When my parents would go away, I was going to school full time and working at my job. So, guess who was left alone, caterwaulling around the house? Kitty, who was only getting two meals a day from me; one with canned cat food in the morning and one of dry food at night. I wasn't home even to eat meals. I just slept at home and played with Kitty to make certain that she was totally ignored.

Every time my parents would go away Kitty would scratch her way out of my bedroom every morning between five and six, searching for my father. When she couldn't find him, she would sit at the top of the stairs and meow, until she got so loud, I thought she was in horrible cat pain.

Try as I might, I would stay in bed until the late hour of seven to get some semblance of sleep. But, Kitty was on a schedule of eating before the sun came up. And she wasn't getting any treats at dinner time, or later in the evening from my Father.

Kitty was mad. She was angry with my father. He was not home to feed Kitty her special food. She sought revenge on my father's shoes. She peed and pooped in his shoes in his closet, not once, but many times whenever he went away on vacation. She must have thought she was the only woman in his life, and was determined to let him know exactly how she felt.

When I dragged myself upstairs to get ready for bed after about five days into their vacation, the smell wafted to my nose and I thought, that can't be what I think it is. I followed the smell into my parents' bedroom, and saw the slightly open closet door. When I opened the door, and turned on the light, I saw that the cat had peed and pooped in every shoe my father owned. And thank God, my father

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