The cat of my childhood, Muffy, the grey and white, medium haired tuxedo cat, would have been the kindly old lady in the neighborhood that everyone called their Grandma, even if she wasn't their biological one. She would have loved every child, even those that weren't biologically part of her family, and cared for them as though they were her own. Muffy was a true nanny cat, if ever there was one.
The only other cat I had was a solid black cat named Binky. She would have been the shy, squeaky voiced little girl, who hides behind either her hair, or bulky clothes. She would want very badly to be a part of a group of friends, but never have the courage to speak up. So very sweet but also so very bashful and nervous. She was usually nervous because she had to watch her back for the tortie cat I described earlier, Myrtle. Myrtle liked to beat her up on a regular basis.
“The day the power of love overrules the love of power, the world will know peace.”
― Mahatma Gandhi