Fish-head, #1 cat, was the agressive independent in a group of abandoned kittens, back in the early 80's. They were black with fleas and starving. I knew that I couldn't keep all of them, back in '82. So, I took the litter and put them all in my bathtub, fed and de-flead them all and decided to keep him. He was a yellow tabby with the most outgoing personality. He was pushy, but not aggressive. He was playful, but not to the detriment of his siblings. As time pressed on, I experienced a rather nasty, heart-breaking break-up with a guy that I'd been involved with. I quit eating and couldn't find the energy to put one foot in front of the other. I'd lie on the sofa and tell myself that I was watching TV. Out of the blue, Fish-Head would jump up on my chest (not usual behavior for him) and sit there looking me square in the eyes. Sooner or later, I'd start crying. He'd do this every time that I engaged in my usual routine (at that time). I could feel his eyes boring into me. I'd look at him and he'd reach out BOTH paws and put them around my neck, as if to hug me. He'd just lie there like that until I moved him or got up to go to bed. He helped me heal and get through the break-up. He knew, instinctively that there were better things in store for my life. And, he lived to see them. He was the best feline friend that any human could ever hope to have. Everyone who ever met Fish-Head knew that he was special. I know that he's up at there with my Mom, who died after he did. They loved each other, also. Mom's already contacted him at the Rainbow Bridge and they're enjoying each other until I arrive.