I don’t understand the phrase ‘fight like cats and dogs’. I’ve never had two animals that were closer in personality and friendship than my cat and my dog. They were the best of friends.

Al came to me in 1995. I was working at a veterinary clinic and he had been brought in and abandoned by his ‘owners’. He was so sick that I did not think he would make it. With no one to pay the bill, he would die, so I asked the vet if I could take him home and at least give him a couple of days of love and let him die with people who cared for him. Much to my surprise, not only did he survive, he thrived! Thirteen years later, he fulfilled my prediction. What a joy he was.

In 2003, my husband and I purchased a house and moved into it. Al, of course, came with us. Shortly after we moved into the house, we brought home a puppy dog. The puppy dog was for Al. I thought he needed a friend.

At first, Dakota was smaller than Al. She fit in the palm of my hand and was a little ball of wiggly fur. Al took to her immediately. When she had a small confrontation with our older adult dog, Al stormed out into the living room and proceeded to give the older dog the hissing of her life. Then he went to check on ‘his puppy’. He comforted her and calmed her down by giving her kisses and purring for her. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen.

As Dakota grew, she got Biggerthan Al. Much bigger. She maxed out at 60 lbs. Al maxed out at 10 lbs. No matter how huge she got, though, she was always Al’s ‘little sister’. If Al decided they should do something, Dakota was more than happy to follow along right behind. However, if he did something that she KNEW he wasn’t supposed to, she would tattle, just like any Littlesister.

The two of them would share a pillow at night (usually mine). It was a rare occurence to find them two of them separated by more than 5 feet. If Al decided to go into the next room, soon Dakota would be following. She pretty much worshipped that cat.

As Al got older, his moments of play time decreased and his epileptic fits increased. Dakota learned how to restrain him and bark to get our attention so that we could stop the seizure. She was very gentle. She would take his back foot (the one that was twitching) very gently in her mouth and keep it from scratching him. She adored that cat.

In January 2008, Al took a sudden turn for the worse. He stopped eating and drinking. I could have force fed him for a couple of months, but that seemed too cruel a thing to do to someone who had given me unconditional love for so long. I made the hardest decision of my life and granted him to die with dignity, rather than squirting mush down his throat.

Dakota knew that something was wrong. Before we took Al to the vet for the last time, she came over and gave him a kiss on the top of his head. One final kiss, which he returned. He managed a small purr for her as well. That was the last time they ever saw each other.

When we came home from the vet, Dakota looked for Al. She looked for him whenever she came in the house for months. She moped and pined for him, just as I did. She, and I, are slowly recovering, but I know that she will never have the bond with another animal that she had with Al, just as I never will. Al was a one of a kind cat, huge brother, and best friend. He is sorely missed by all who knew him.