I don't remember a time I didn't want a cat as a pet. Mom said all I wanted for my third birthday was a cat. However, Dad didn't like cats and was very resistant. As my birthday got closer, they would ask what I wanted and my answer was always the same, a kitty.
Mom, Cousin Kit, me, Cousin Mary, Cousin Bill (My second birthday)
On the big day I have the vague memory of Dad coming home from work with a white box (similar to a cake box with a circle hole in the side.) Mom and I greeted him in the driveway on that sunny day and in the box was a little black and white kitten. We named him Trasie, This was Mom's idea and a play on the Spanish work for three, Tras-ie. He was the first of many kitties to enter into my heart.
Dad and me on "Uncle" George's boat - scary times!
It wasn't until he retired things fell into place, tho. Dad took early retirement the year The Chick was born and a few months later they got their orange cat Bridget. It didn't take long for both The Chick and Bridget to totally win his heart. He loved being home all time time and becoming an integral part of the household. Finally, one day he just looked at Mom, and said "Now I get it". He loved being home and at the center of the daily activities which became such special memories.