Last week, I posted the question on my Facebook page: Do you have a pet? Fans replied in droves, no pun intended. Mention pets, and you hit a nerve.

What is it about them? Is it the fact that they depend on us so completely? That they offer companionship without demanding conversation? Is it simply the unconditional love they give?

I can’t speak for other pet-owners, only for myself, but I had always wanted a cat. As a chiild, I had stuffed cats – they’re shabby and worn now, loved like the Velveteen Rabbit, living their afterlives in the armoire with my cashmere sweaters.

When my husband and I had kids, I felt I had enough wildness in the house. Then the kids grew, the thought returned and, this time, took root. We adopted Chelsea from a local tree and shrub nursery that kept a large crate with one litter at a time of kittens looking for homes. My book, The Passions of Chelsea Kane, had just come out, hence her name. She was one of a litter of three; in hindsight, I’d have taken two or all three, so that Chelsea would have company when we’re not here. Of course, back then we didn’t know how we would take to one live pet, let alone three.

Seventeen years later, my husband and I adore her to bits for all the reasons I mentioned above and more. Some people think cats are solitary, non-social creatures. I disagree. Sure as night follows day, they need to see us. I can’t even say that they’re quiet, since a meowing spell in the middle of the night can sound pret-ty loud. When they want something, they let themselves be known.

Cats are more self-sufficient than some other pets. In theory, if you put out enough water and food, you can leave them alone for a few days while you travel, but I have trouble doing that. When we first got Chelsea, we didn’t travel often. Now we do, whether it’s going to the lake, or visiting the grandkids, or just plain taking off on our own. Cats don’t travel well, so other than the two-week stretch when we’re at the lake each summer, she stays home. And here’s the truth – each time we pack up and go, I leave a piece of my heart with her. I do have a cat sitter who comes in each day to freshen water and food, but I worry nonetheless. Chelsea knows who her parents are, and she misses us when we’re gone.

I do believe cats have nine lives. The first time a vet told me Chelsea had kidney problems was easily eight years ago, at which time they gave her six months to live. And before that, they heard a heart murmur. My current vet (who comes to the house to see her) actually heard the murmur during one visit, but it was gone during a subsequent visit, leading me to suspect it was related to the stress of her being confined in my office, waiting for him to arrive.

Now, though, the kidney issue is back. My vet based his diagnosis on her blood workup, and shortly thereafter, I was concerned enough with her behavior to call him one night. Then … she revived. Mind you, she isn’t a cat we can medicate; that would cause more angst for her and for us, and ruin the time we have left. So we changed her food, started giving her supermarket stuff – the McDonalds of cat food – and she’s eating better than she has in years. Tasty food helps. The goal with kidney failure is to get fluids in to wash out the bad stuff that her kidneys can no longer filter out, so we mix yummy food with extra water. And she’s energetic. She’s responsive. Her coat is still soft and thick. She seems happy.

However many lives she’s already lived, they’ve been good ones. We may not make it to nine, but we treasure every day with her. Unconditional love? On both sides. Absolutely.