I grew up with animals. My parents were/are huge animal lovers and there has never been a time that I didn’t have to share my bed with a fluffy body.

I married quite young. My new husband was not keen on cats. Yes he had dogs growing up but cats were never his thing.

As a young university going married couple we went though all the usual phases – not having enough money, pizza for days, exam cram, trips to the library, riding the bus to go to work, trying to cook and all. Therefore the thought of having a four legged friend to take care of was unimaginable. We were barely able to take care of ourselves.

On my first birthday after I graduated, my husband said he wanted to take me shopping to pick up my present. Excited and a bit alarmed (I never had to choose my present before) I was in tears when I realised we had stopped at a cat shelter! Howling in the car like a maniac from happy tears I hugged my husband and told him thanks a million times. He mumbled ‘but that cat will live in the laundry room’. Did that sentence alarm me? No. Because I knew the right kitten can change his heart.

Looking through the kittens at the shelter my eyes were drawn to a gorgeous strippy kitty sitting like a queen atop a pillow. She caught my gaze immediately and came over to play. She resembled the kitty who died in my arms when I was 17. She licked my knee and I was sold.

Pusku was feisty, playful and a ball of energy. Daddy spent 5 hours playing with her with a ball on our first day at home. We spoiled her beyond imagination – Pusku needs a purified water filter – yes. Pusku needs a $200 cat tree – yes. Pusku is afraid of the ceiling fan so we will have to sweat it out – yes. Needless to stay little Pus never had to live in the laundry room.

Pusku is now 8 years old, regal and gorgeous as ever. She is a big sister to a human and another rescue cat and is the apple of her daddy’s eyes.