He was a family cat, but he was really my cat. He was my first love, and also my first heartbreak, when I learned that I was allergic to cats. I wouldn't let my family get rid of him, so we just made my room off limits. This was where Butterscotch used to sleep every night, curled around my head, so for the sake of my stuffiness, we kept my door closed. For a couple years, poor Buttface mewled outside my room and would pull underneath the door to try to open it every night. One of the big regrets in my life was not realizing that my allergist could blow off and I could live with a cat and deal with the allergy consequences, something I learned later in life when I brought cats back in to it.
Butterscotch died while I was in College, and he will always have a special place in my heart.