There are so many stories I could tell about my beloved "Pushkin," but what I like to remember best is the day he spared the life of my pet mouse, who was the mother of a brood of 4 boys and 1 girl. We had seven mice, all relatives. One day I build an elaborate cardboard attic-like extension onto their plastic cage. It was fitted with a tread wheel and a magical skyline of empty toilet tissue spools, etc. It was like a summer fairground and the mice played happily for hours. And then I removed the cardboard "attic." Put the lid on their cage and went to bed. The next morning I noticed that I was short one mouse and the cage had been in the living room all night, under guard of the cat (because I was still a tiny bit squeamish about mice). Needless to say I cried, thinking, surely Pushkin had eaten the poor mouse. But the next moment I panicked as I saw a small white thing move away from the corner of the table. "Help! A mouse," I screamed, even while realizing it was my very own pet. I put the cage near her and placed a cardboard ramp leading up to the top and she managed to run back in. My Pushkin stood there watching the whole thing. How I loved him. He was so upright and sensitive.
You can read more about my adventures with mice at http://maxpages.com/sight/GIVE_MY_DOG_A_BONE
I now cherish my second cat, Buzzer, a female, interested in all things human.