Having a kid who is obsessive about animals and saving them is a pretty life altering process. So after fostering civet cats, squirrels, many a puppies, 40 odd rabbits, Cara walked in with yet another creature to nurture this January.

He came like a little squiggle of life, a week old kitten, with little chance of survival, but he furiously clung to the thread of life in him – suckling drops of milk from a syringe, mewling the minute he woke up and thrashing about wildly the second his little tummy had it’s fill of milk. Toady, that grey blob has grown to rule my heart with easy nonchalance, He didn’t know how to crap so his little bottom had to be wiped with a wet cotton for minutes on end to give him some sensation there and guide him, (believe me I haven’t been so patient with my kids!).  And he grew and grew and is a strapping, bossy stripped cat who is the terror of the three puppies in the house and hisses at them if they dare come too near. Neo – I called him – a new beginning, little did I realize he would provide me with hours of fun and games and be the therapy to my empty nest syndrome (both the kids had left for studies abroad). He demands to be loved, I don’t believe he has any concept of how a cat is meant to be, he needs a biscuit like the puppies when I get home, he trots up to the front door when I come back or the front door bell rings. He nips and claws at my hair till I give him the rubber band on my ponytail to play with. He is aggressive and angry if he senses I am going out of the house and if a suitcase is pulled out he will sit in it in protest, as he knows that is a sure sign that I am traveling. The computer is his worst enemy – I pay attention to it and not to him when it is on, so he pads across and sits on the key board, defying you to throw him out.