by Yvonne Donlon

Created on: January 23, 2010

If anyone tries to tell you that cats are all the same, don’t believe them.  Like human beings, all cats have distinct personalities that make them the unique, and delightful, companion they become in your life.

I have had the pleasure of being around, and owning, cats since I was a very small child. Cricket, the name of the cat we owned when I was just learning to speak, could open the door by literally reaching up and turning the knob with his front paws. He also learned how to use the toilet instead of the litter box. (Unfortunately, he didn’t learn to flush.)

And, legend has it his name was the first word I spoke. “Ah, Cicket,” I have been purported to have said.  My paternal grandmother always disagreed, insisting that my first word was not a word, but an entire phrase. She insisted that, while changing my diaper, she always said to me, “Don’t you dare pee on me. Don’t you dare.” Then, one day, after reciting her usual admonition, she attests I said, “Don’t ya dare, don’t ya dare.” Given my ability to mimic people to this day, I would guess my grandmother was right. However, I am sure, also, that “Aww Cicket,” were  my watchword and song as I hopped through the house in my baby walker.

There are baby pictures of me with our other cat Suzy. She was very maternal, and kept close tabs on me and my brother. In all the baby pictures of us asleep with Suzy laying with us, she is never asleep, but quite alert and keeping watch over us.

Fast forward some years to Suzy II. We didn’t actually call her Suzy II, as though she was the sequel of Suzy I, we simply named her Suzy in honor of Suzy I. In reality Suzy II was nothing like Suzy I. Spayed early, and a very tiny Burmese/Siamese mix,  she didn’t have the maternal instinct of her namesake. She was incredibly playful, and very curious. She was the house’s reigning champion of hide and seek. She could hide better hand any of us, and find you in your hiding place better than any of us.

One day, her curiosity convinced her to sneak outside, where she met up with a police dog. Their encounter cost her one of her back legs. But fear not. She lived another 12 years with three legs and her playfulness and curiosity intact.

Fast forward again to my adulthood. After having spent many years in the company of dogs (the canine kind), I took in a yellow cat. She and my Black Lab spent several weeks sizing

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