This is my non-human sweetheart. She looks evil. She's not. Emma was 9.5 in human years when I adopted her for better or worse almost seven years ago. Nobody else wanted her from the pound, since she was that old.

The staff told me that "she hates people." Pfft. As far as I was concerned, she was pissed off at being in jail, not at anyone in particular. My former cat lived to 17 people years. Steve's last cat made it to 25 in people years--the Methuselah! It was a gamble for me to adopt Emma, having no clue how much longer she would live. So far, she's doing a really good job of being an old fart!

Steve's Methuselah cat accepted me from day one: "If Daddy's not available, I'll settle on your lap, and start snoozing."

My Emma loves me as her Mommy, but considers Steve to be her friendly Uncle, so to speak. I'm teaching Steve to give her insulin shots in case I have to travel on business, and can't be home to do it myself. It's not really that difficult.

Cat people just know things instinctively. Dog people have to sniff around, which gets a bit creepy, although I love dogs, too.