And the sappy language of the pet-rescue world.

mom, dad = owner
sister = fellow female dog
forever home

Ten years ago the house next door had a bad fire. A neighbor pounded on our door in the middle of the night and woke us up. Our houses are only eight feet apart, and the smoke and flames were terrifying. I called the cat, but she had hidden herself somewhere. I had to leave her.

I never would have left a child, but the cat was not my child, and I wasn't her mom.

After half an hour, the firefighters told me I could go back in my house, and I found the cat, put her in a crate, and sat in the car with her on my lap till it was almost over.

When people refer to me as my cat's mom, I wonder if they have any idea of the dedication which parenthood demands.