I think we had known each other less than a week when Future husband made his first visit to my apartment.
He wanted a glass of water and bent down to pluck a glass from the open shelving before I could say anything.
Portia the cat was a jumper. She felt more comfortable up high,and when a strange man bent over she took the opportunity and leaped onto his back...holding on with her claws dug into a brand new leather jacket. He stopped moving. He'd bought this jacket to spif up his appearance to impress me. He quickly realized, and rightly so, that how he treated this cat was ten times more important than what he wore. The only thing he did was ask me to get the cat off his back.
Portia did her best over the next eleven years to rid the house we bought of varmints, Husband's Dad had died one spring, his Mom diagnosed with terminal cancer earlier that week, when I realize old Portia was not going to rally. There were frantic calls to surrounding towns, as our office wasn't open, and it was Saturday. It was a long drive to a strange office, and a longer one home. The forecast was for rain all weekend. When Sunday afternoon came and no end to the rain in sight, DH set to digging a grave for Portia. He was crying when he brought her out of the barn and placed her in the ground.
The last few years of our marriage were very difficult for a number of reasons. There is a tendency to be a tad bitter. But many of these posts reminded me that it wasn't always "that way," reminded me of the little things he did along the way to be helpful and smooth the path for others.