Cy has 3 sleeping positions at night: (1) On the girls’ heads. They call him the “Cat Crown”. (2) On their feet. Cy-Slippers. (3) Stretched out next to them, so as much of his body as possible is cuddled against them. Cy-Blankie.

This therapist never moves until the session is over. He gives hugs during nightmares. He’s the first to receive greetings upon coming home, and he stands on guard as we leave. Cyrus can turn lights on and off, and announces all birds who enter our yard. It’s a formal and outdated custom, but it’s grown on us. Sara found and rescued him from a certain death many years ago, and this little guy has never stopped repaying the favor.

For the many well-meaning folks who keep telling us we need a dog, I have to ask: what am I missing? I didn’t grow up with pets, so other than having a creature who poops in my yard and requires walks in the snow, what does a dog bring to the table that my Cyrus Johnson does not? Or maybe Sara rescued the dog of the cat world? Thoughts?