I was always a little embarassed to admit just how much I loved my cat, Fefe when I was younger. She was everything to me. When my father exited my life, my mum bought Fefe to make me feel better and it worked. She also became a huge emotional crutch for me. I'd come home from school after a bad day of bullying and just curl up with her while I cried.
She'd always wait at the door to greet us when she heard the car pull onto the drive and my mother was always grateful for this as a single parent with three jobs. She didn't have time for friends so she loved opening the door at 4am and seeing that this small, sweet, living thing waited for her.
I came home on my 21st birthday and there she was... dead. Right by the door on the drive like she always was. It broke my heart. She was 17 years old and we spoiled her so much so I don't feel like she missed out on anything.
When Fefe had gone... we decided there was too much of a gap. We're all huge animal lovers in the Birdcage household and knew we needed another furbaby to cuddle and care for.
Alfie was owned by a family who lived a few streets away. He'd visit us everyday and never wanted to leave. One day his owner saw him in our garden and came to inquire. She asked us if we'd kept him overnight because she hadn't seen him properly for weeks. We never kept him. We always sent him home but I guess he never wanted to go. In the end she said we could keep him. She commented on his weight and the condition of his fur. We had to groom him because he was so matted and we also couldn't ignore him when he was hungry.
He's such a huge character. He's so noisy and always replies when you talk to him. When he bites you, he follows it up with a little lick to say sorry and he talks WHILE he's eating but only if it's good food!