Several years ago, I was sitting on my front porch thinking about some serious problems I was having with one of my dogs. Suddenly there was a small, totally black cat rubbing against my legs. It rolled on it's back and meowed until I reached down to pet it's belly. It immediately jumped on my lap and proceeded to rub it's face against mine.
I tried to find the cat's owners, but never did. The vet informed me that it was a boy, about 9 months old. I named him Blackjack. After the big snip, he decided he was going to make friends with all three dogs. He just walked right up to them and put his nose on each of their noses. The dogs were flabergasted that this little cat was not scared of the big dogs. He was accepted as part of the family right away.
Blackjack slept next to me every night, with a big dog on my other side. He came when I called him. He caught mice for the neighbors and presented them to me. He only got on the countertop once, learning quickly that I didn't want him up there. He never clawed the furniture or sprayed. He was the most loving cat I've ever known, sitting next to me on the couch every night.
Exactly one year later, he got his annual booster shots. The next day he disappeared. No one in the neighborhood saw him and all the searching and signs were to no avail.
I still miss my Blackjack. He was the one who taught me to love cats.
Among the 12 cats I have, 3 are all black and one is tuxedo. I think I'm prejudiced!
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Her very favorite toy is an old shoestring. What's not to love?
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