Zack, it brings a tear to my eye reading this. To relate in some fashion, I've had cats as pets (on and off) since I was a baby. I'll never forget how I felt one specific time when I was younger: My father brought a little white kitten home from work one day. Fast forward, she ended up having a litter of four - three just like her, and one that was black. The black one grew up to have an astonishingly beautiful coat of all mixed grays. She was the runt; I called her Shadow. When I would come home from work, she would be waiting at the window and watch me walk up to the house until I was out of her sight. Then she'd run to, and sit by, the door, waiting for me to walk in. Her eyes always lit up when she saw me! She'd follow me around while I would get settled in; she would race me up the stairs to my room and jump on my bed like she hadn't seen me in years! We were best friends, she was the best buddy ever. Well, about a year later, the cats had to go. My parents wanted to redo the interior of our house, so the cats either had to get de-clawed or given away. Her sisters and brothers got new homes from friends/family, but no one a dark cat or her fluffy white mommy. I'll never forget how I cried and felt after we brought both her and her mother to the best animal shelter around. It was such a depressing, sad time that I could barely handle. I didn't have her for years, but it sure felt like it.

The inevitable happened, I now have an orange tabby named Scoot (Scooter). He's awesome! I scooped him up when he was 4 weeks old. He's 6 months old now, and quite a big boy. Best of luck in your recuperation, pal!