I had a cat growing up. We got him when I was in kindergarten and he lived until my first year of university. He was as much a member of the family as the rest of us. His name was Nosy. He was black with 4 white paws, a white circle on his tummy, white whiskers, and yes, a white nose (as well as white under his chin). He was really 'my' cat, he loved me best. When I was sick, he stayed by my side. When I was a little girl I would dress him up in my doll clothes and push him around in my doll carriage. He always looked p!ssed off when I did this, but he tolerated it. Every summer my family went camping, and Nosy always came with us. He loved it, and would sit in the middle of the tent trailler when we tried to pack up to go home so we couldn't close down the trailler. Everyone who met him thought he was a special cat. That he was. The day he died I was devastated...everyone cried, even my dad. After that we could not bring ourselves to get another cat...no cat could ever replace Nosy. He was one of a kind. It has been 20 years, and I still miss him, just the same.