I Love My Tabby Cat

As my cat Tabby is starting to slowly grow weaker and weaker from kidney disease (all our cats seem to get it at some point, sadly), I have started to think about him more. Especially about what he has done for me. He has actually done a lot for me, and even played a big part in shaping who I am now. One of the incredible things he has always been really good at is understanding me, my emotions, thoughts, and even what I am trying to communicate to him (if not each individual word). Whenever I was sad, or feeling some other emotion on the bad side of the emotional scale, he would know instantly, and come, so I could pet him and restore my good mood. If I got hurt, even if no wound was visible, he would would know, and do something along the lines of lick it or rub against it, as if he knew how placebos worked. In fact, he did that a few minutes ago, when I hit my finger with a hammer. And most impressively in his understanding, he seems to understand my disabilities, if not entirely. Back when I was younger, and didn't have any medicine yet (or not have good medicine to help me), I would have tantrums during which I would grab Tabby and not let him go. And he put up with it, even helped me out, and always forgave me once I calmed. He seemed to know it was out of my control. And looking back on it, I know how he understood/understands me so incredibly. Because he has watched me grow up ever since I was born. But how he managed to put up with me, and forgive me for being loud and obnoxious, or too energetic, or not treating him well- I have no idea. But now that I am past those years, I see that Tabby really helped me get through those unintelligent times. And Tabby taught me valuable lessons that later shaped who I am now. He taught me forgiveness, not to always hate, hold grudges/have revenge against, or consider evil anything or anybody that did something I considered to be mean. He taught me that just because somebody doesn't act nicely, it doesn't mean they are bad people. He taught me the golden rule. And, of course, to stand up for the weak and different. And you can see how those lessons have shaped me. I do not know where he learned those lessons himself. Perhaps from my mother, who rescued him when she found him abandoned in a parking lot when he was a kitten. She took him home. And put up with the hardships that came with it, like fixing hind leg that Tabby broke soon after rescue, and other food and medical bills. The stress that mom felt during those hardships must have been obvious to Tabby. After all, one of the best ways to learn is from experience, as I know from, well, experience. Can you think of any incredible animals in your life?