When we moved back to Hawaii, we got a cat with the house. It was kind of a package deal -- the cat just wasn't moving. She was already pretty mature (I think about 12) when we got the house and for years the only person in the family she paid any attention to was my father. She would sit and watch him for hours when he was doing working on the yard or some other project but about the only thing any of the rest of us would get was a "meow" when she felt we hadn't refilled her dish on time or with the right food.

Years later after I'd graduated from college and was on active duty, we had a scare when my father collapsed from an undetected ulcer. It was so bad, he never made it out of the kitchen but dropped right on the floor. My mother was at work so nobody knew Dad was there on the floor until she got home from work but the cat went to him and curled up by his head to keep him company. I think it was 5-6 hours later when my mother got home to find Dad with a pool of blood near his head and the cat watching over him, purring away. Dad got fixed up pronto and after that, the cat was his baby more than ever -- the two had almost a telepathy going.