In different ways, I am responsible for both our cats. I bought Tippi from a cat refuge as a christmas present for my mother in 1992. She was 10 weeks old. Fluffy is really my cat, but a few years ago I travelled overseas and left her with my parents for two weeks. When I returned she seemed so much happier there than she had been at my place that I decided to leave her there for a few more days. She ended up staying. But the cats have generally had a very positive effect on my parents. Having something to look after gives them something to do, it gets them out of their armchairs. And having a constant source of feline activity (albeit somewhat lethargic) gives them something to talk about.

The therapeutic qualities of pets are now taken seriously even by the authorities, and it seems there are good reasons for this. I think it must be good for mum and dad to have the unconditional companionship of the cats - without disdain for their lack of personal hygiene, without patronising attitudes, without any form of judgement and without annoying noise or destructive habits.

Between mum and Tippi there is a particularly close relationship. I've never seen so much eye-contact between a cat and a human as these two regularly indulge in. Tippi will sit on the arm of my mother's chair or on the floor at her feet, and just look at her. My mother will ask 'What do you want?', and look around at anyone else in the room to make sure they are also enjoying the exchange. Inevitably, this use to lead to my mother walking into the kitchen and offering the cat something to eat. Tippi usually wasn't interested in food; but I guess she'd realised that if she looked at mum interesting things often happen.

Fluffy is more of a man's cat, and often jumps into my father's lap. He likes this, and she loves being fussed over - up to a point. Go past that point, and she will grumble and trot away to sulk in the garden.

Sadly, there are downsides to the relationship too. The cats are not being regularly groomed, and at times the house has had flea infestations. My mother insists on providing a litter tray, even though Fluffy had never used one before. It often stinks. My mother has also effectively encouraged Tippi to jump on the table at meals times, by feeding her tid-bits. The table is often coated in cat hair. And opened tins of cat food often get hidden in unusual places, and cannot be found until they begin to declare their presence through increasingly revolting smells.

Overall the cats seem to fare quite well, despite some new problems. They are thinner now that their diet has gone all 'adventurous' (toast, fruit, vegetables, margarine, tea, etc), and in the absence of daily grooming Fluffy's fur must be trimmed every year to prevent knotting. She must be anaesthetised for this, otherwise she will fight the vet. This cannot be good for her.

Our case manager says that pets are the greatest source of problems with old people. They can militate against hygiene, destroy property, trip people, reduce security (doors being left open, etc), and complicate the emotional difficulty of moving to hospital or home.

If we do have to move mum and dad into a home, we will have a problem with the cats. Greg's daughter Cassy is allergic to them. Rachel lives hundreds of kilometres away and has four already. I now rent an apartment with a clause explicitly prohibiting pets. Not only is Derek in the UK, but he is allergic to cats too. It looks as if I will have to find somewhere new to live.