One cold, rainy Sunday afternoon, I rushed over to Mary's apartment in a panic-one of my eight young cats was seriously ill and I had no idea what to do.

In spite of having something delicious cooking in the oven, letters to family back home to write and other things to do, Mary rushed my cat Sox & I to the nearest vet in Whitby in her car.

Not only did Mary do that, she checked on Sox daily afterward to make sure he was OK. And brought him cooked chicken. 

Sox recovered from his crystal blockage and purred his thanks to Mary with each visit.