My cats are pretty aptly named. The first cat I adopted is a black and white tuxedo cat named Kokoro (everyone pretty much calls him Koko). Kokoro is Japanese for heart.
He "helped" me get sick. The main issue I have is genetic, Koko just managed to help it come out more by giving me a secondary illness. We're both healthy now, but if I hadn't adopted my beloved darling, we may not have realized my illness and discovered the small problems in my heart. I have a very small Mitrovalve Prolapse and a couple of tiny wholes in between two of my chambers. Nothing that can hurt me yet, but it's nice to know and b able to watch it.
The second baby I adopted is a birman/ragdoll named Prince. Prince and Koko are such opposites, I love how everything worked out. Prince is a darling who loves to play Marco Polo, be brushed (thank heavens, he has a lot of fur). On nights I have a lot of pain his will crawl up next to me and hold my hand in his paw. He will only jump up on something if you invite him. He's a very polite, however shy, cat.
My cats teach me a lot. They take care of me, as much as they can without thumbs.
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