Poppy is my cat and I thought I would tell you a little tale (or should that be tail) about her as she approaches her eighteenth birthday next month, which makes her almost ninety in equivalent human years!
She has always been a fairly slim cat even though she rarely goes outside so she doesn't get a huge amount of exercise, apart from racing up and down the stairs. I always take her to the vet for an annual check-up and he was concerned on our visit in March because she had lost weight and was under 3 kilogrammes, the lightest she has ever been. He decided to run some tests to check for signs of illness, but also suggested giving her an additional meal in the middle of the day to try and help her gain a little weight.
I love being a Mum. I am one of those people who always wanted to have children and I was lucky enough to have my dream fulfilled. I have loved every stage of my children growing up, from tiny babies, through terrible twos, stroppy teenagers to the adults they have become. They are my 'raison d'etre'.
It's funny but down the years they have each asked from time to time who I love more, and my answer has always been, 'I love you both the same'. In some respects this is an inaccurate answer as although I love them both the same amount, the way I love them is probably different.
Daniel was my first born and the overwhelming ache of love I felt for him as I held him in my arms for the first time is a feeling I will never forget. I was so enthralled with this tiny new person that I never closed my eyes at all on the night that he was born, I just lay and looked at him. He is my boy and I have an amazing relationship with him.