Taylor was an interesting cat. I acquired him when he was about seven years old. He was an orange tabby cat with a very sweet disposition. I spoiled him rotten because for the first three years I had him, he was my only "child". What Taylor wanted, Taylor got!

Some of the things Taylor wanted were unusual for cats. Taylor loved garlic. If he smelled garlic in the kitchen, he would come running. When I had spaghetti, I had to put a little bowl of buttered noodles with garlic out for him. If pizza came in the house, he was ready for his share!

Pounce treats were another favorite of his. He would actually jump in the air for a pounce treat. Flavor did not matter to him; when he heard me rattle the can and say "treat", he was right there. I could not use the word in the normal course of a conversation without him meowing and begging for his treat. I had to spell the word in conversation, but he soon learned what that was. I don't know how he came to recognize the spelling, but he did. I then had to learn to use the phrase "T-word" when I wanted to speak of a treat or treats. It was often surprising to people I was conversing with when I would say "T-word" and they were unaware of the meaning.

We lived for about three years in a very old house that had the heating grates in the floor. Once, I accidently threw one of his treats down that grate. For weeks afterwards, I would see him sitting beside that grate, staring longingly down into it. They say elephants never forget, but Taylor never forgot that T-word! (Oops! Old habits die hard.)

Taylor's most favorite food in the world was turkey. He loved it! All I had to do was say the word "turkey" and he was there, meowing and begging pitifully for it. Like the word "treat", I could not say "turkey" aloud unless I was prepared to produce some. I had to spell it out. Thankfully, Taylor never learned to recognize the spelling of turkey, but it made ordering from my favorite sandwich delivery place interesting. I always ordered a vegetarian with turkey. I also always ordered a side order of turkey for Taylor. The people at the place became accustomed to me ordering a "vegetarian with t-u-r-k-e-y on whole wheat bread and a side order of t-u-r-k-e-y for the cat".

When I cooked a turkey, as soon as the aroma made it ovbious what I was cooking, Taylor was in the kitchen. He would sit in front of that stove waiting for the turkey for hours. He would only leave his post to come to me and meow pitifully. When I took it out of the oven and opened the foil, he would be at my feet, rubbing against my legs, and begging for turkey. It was pitiful making him wait until it cooled.