Don Cucho

When I was a kid I never liked cats because mom always told me that they were selfish and spoiled animals, so all of my childhood I was kind of Doglover. When I was 19 my mom was on holidays at the beach, and the day before she arrived home she called to my phone asking me if I would mind to have a cat in the house. "Of course I mind, we don't like cats remember?" I replied to her, and she answered "Ok I will have that on mind".

Short story: She arrived home with a very thin black cat. He was very injuried because back in the beach he was constantly hit by bigger cats, and in the moment he saw my mom falled in love with her and never stopped to follow her. But I kinda liked the cat too, he was very sweet and purred like no other cat I met before, like a sweet little motor. In the beginning I just liked him, and meanwhile he became a fat and very happy and sleepy cat, but after a month or two he really made me love him, I felt that the day that the doctor take him away for a whole day and night to cut his balls off: Gave my precious cat to someone else really made me sad.

Now he have three years living with us and it's the most loved cat in the world, it's part of the family and it's like a brother to me. He sleeps with my mom at nights and come to my bed at mornings, and that it's really cool when it's winter. We play a lot and he is always there to purr and make me smile after a long day.

We never figured out how to name him so it ended just like Cucho, or Don Cucho, Mr. Cucho, Simba, Kimba, Don Negro, etc.