Hen-hen and the Tinsel

This is my Hen-hen, (that's what I call him anyway). I once read a book that said most cats of cat lovers have a least seven names (cute and nice names not bugger off flea bag type of names). I remember thinking that was rubbish but realised that both my cats have at least seven names and maybe more. Anyway every Christmas he can't wait for the tinsel to come out of the roof and to wallow in the box once the lid is removed. He loves tinsel and surprisingly never comes out of it covered in shining little slivers, whereas my home is always covered in the glittery slithers whenever I decorate my room.

Hen- hen is so far, the love of my life. I know sad 'cat women' type of comment but I truly love him. I have another cat and a dog and I love them too but not quite the same. I have lived with a cat for just about the last thirty years, and I have loved them all but really they have all preferred my husband and only tolerated this women who might feed them, let them in and out and occasionally be available if a cuddle is required. They were all female cats. But from the first moment I set eyes on Hen at the rescue centre it has just been true love. He climbed straight on my shoulder and curled around me. He still does this when I lie in bed and he curls around me on my pillow. Even though I can't sleep for his loud diesel like purring and his fur makes my face itch - I love him.

Sometimes I only have to think of him and he will come from where he is sleeping and sit with me, in fact he has just come into the study now and is staring at me - like he knows I am writing about him. He wakes me in the morning and lies beside me when I go to sleep.

He can be an absolute pain, like I am typing on a wireless keyboard because he has knackered the keyboard on my laptop where he jumped up, slightly lost his footing and slide back taking half the keyboard letters with him. And when he wants to go and is not allowed, will literally 'hola' at the back door in the loudest nagging sort of way. I don't give in. My cats don't go out after dark even though we live in a quiet cul-de-sac surrounded by fields. I have spent too many an early morning, 3am roaming about trying to quietly call my cats without waking the neighbours, only to find them sitting on the carport roof watching me and wandering what I am doing at that hour.

But whenever I am sad, or lonely or just having a little weep at some silly film he will always appear and cuddle up next to me. I know sometimes he sits on my lap and uses my skin as a gentle scratching post, but it is done with love. He sits with me all day when I am not well and stays with me constantly when the darkness comes. He is my white savour.

I love him, and wonder what I will do when it is his time to leave. I sometimes feel that he is someone who has come back to look after me. It is the weirdest feeling, like I know him and always have. Silly, I know but it is how I feel.

Sometimes I wonder what I would do if it was a choice between Hen-hen and 'Him' - what would I do? Hen-hen loves me for me, no judgement, just pure love and not because he has too. I look forward to going home to see Hen-hen, I look forward to going to bed for a cuddle with Hen-hen. He is my friend.

Oh dear have I really become this sad cat women - probably but I don't care.