I suppose you could say I got Benny from the shops. In 2006, he and his brother ambushed me outside a supermarket in Bahrain. They were trying to climb into the bags of shopping I was carrying to get at the food they could smell. Immediately smitten, I took them in.

It was the start of a 16-year relationship that saw Benny and Buster accompany me to Kenya, Qatar, back to Bahrain, then finally to Manchester. I used to say they had seen more countries than most people. I was an advertising creative director and followed the work where I could get it. It was an interesting but lonely life and my new pals, who were about three months old, immediately made a difference. I was besotted with them, but it was Benny, with his endearing quirks, who really stole my heart.

Unlike most cats, he was attracted to water and loved paddling in the bath. He used to jump in when it was filling up and wade around, occasionally sticking his head under the tap. At other times, he would sit patiently on the back edge of the tub until I was done and then slide in. He was one of the most loving cats I’ve ever had. Whenever I lay on the couch, he would jump up and nestle in the crook of my arm.

Benny and Buster were indoor cats, so I grew grass in a plant pot for them to chew on. It was only a patch of about 20 sq cm but Benny would sit on it as if it were his private indoor lawn. About half an hour before Benny’s dinner time, I would usually find him lying on his back with his paws in the air. It was the only time of day he did that and I took it as a sign of utter contentment at the prospect of being fed, and perhaps with his life in general. I have never seen a cat look happier.

In 2021, Benny was diagnosed with cancer. It turned out to be inoperable and he was given about six months to live, but perhaps because I pampered him so much, he survived for another three years. He became thinner and weaker, but he always looked as if he was still enjoying life, even managing an occasional paddle. Then one day, I realised that had changed. It seemed as if he’d had enough.

Taking him to the vet and saying goodbye was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I sat in the car park for an hour afterwards because I couldn’t stop crying. I still think of Benny every time I run a bath.