This is my child. Yes, I know that's silly, it's nothing like a child. But he kept me sane, after my divorce. My cats are important to me. I don't want to over-react, I don't want to miss signs of something that would be easy to fix.

Well, I have children but no cats (severe allergies); we had a boxer growing up when we were young. And I don't think it is in any way stupid.

I was a child when my parents had to send our boxer away; my youngest brother was severely ill twice (as in, long stays in the hospital, and barely pulling through) and they didn't know why. The family doctor told my parents: You can have the child or the dog. You choose.

But it almost killed my dad.

And it terrified the rest of us; my father didn't -tell- us that we had to send the dog away because of the baby, because neither he or my mother wanted to burden the baby with our resentment. So... he just sent the dog away.

And for us it was like losing a sibling. It was just as large a loss. For a little while after, we were not completely certain that we wouldn't somehow just have to be sent away as well.

But -- and we didn't know about this until years later -- he tried so hard to keep tabs on our poor boxer, and on his new owners, and on the owners after that. To my father, he was very much like a child. A child who adored him beyond all reason =/.