Eddie adores shoving glass things off the mantel. I used to crawl around, collecting hundreds of shards. I fondly remember Bob using tweezers to remove splintered glass from my bleeding knees while I screamed in agony.

Now we Velcro decorations to our mantel. No more glass. Instead, we stick on fake fruit.

Vitamins make cool rattling noises when tossed, so all our cabinets have deadbolt locks. Eddie flipped hooks and eyes open.

Eyeglasses cost $350. I know because mine shatter when Eddie slams them off the table. Cats need healthy teeth. Eddie's are, from gnawing on my earpieces. I have duct tape on the tips so sharp edges don't keep ripping raw skin from behind my ears.

I have obsessive compulsive disorder - excessive worrying. I obsess about fires. Once, Eddie pushed the toaster oven lever - setting on fire months of crumbs we never clean. The toaster is unplugged now. Recently, flames were shooting from a burner on our gas stove. Eddied had rotated the knob. Knobs have been removed.

I worry he'll drown, so the toilet seat is kept down. With OCD, I obsess guests won't remember to lower the lid, even if I explain. Can you imagine what our company thinks I'm checking on when I rush into the bathroom after anybody's used it?

In bed, Eddie pulls down the blankets so our sensitive body parts are clawable. It's embarrassing explaining to a doctor (because I'm asked) that I don't have the mental disorder of cutting myself and I'm not being abused.

Eddie pushes buttons - such as the clock radio button - at 4:30 a.m. Once the police came because he pushed our panic alarm. Bob covered the button with a clunky metal box that goes nicely with our antique décor.

We closed the bedroom door, but Eddie loves challenges. Using both paws, he'd twist the doorknob and storm in. We locked it on the inside. But when we'd need the bathroom, he'd grab that second to twist the knob, run inside, and hide behind the bureau where we can't reach him. What's he doing? Standing all night outside our door waiting for us to go to the bathroom?

The office door is locked. He types, scans, and sends faxes. I'm scared to look at faxes in case he sent my gynecological records to my editor.

Eddie's favorite food group is plastic wrap. Have you ever stuck your fingers down a cat's throat to retrieve plastic? I recommend Johnson & Johnson Advanced Care Band Aids. As our vet once said, ''The only reason cats don't kill you is because you're bigger.''

Eddie would maul us to get fruit. When we'd have fruit with supper, we'd eat standing, holding our plates. What choice was there, with a cat like Eddie? (I heard that!) Now we save fruit for dessert - in the bathroom.

On Christmases past, we'd fall asleep, smelling pine scent while hearing ornaments smashing off the tree. Our solution? Put decorations one foot from the treetop, leaving four-fifths of it bare. Eddie climbed the tree and sent ornaments sailing from there. So we attached them with heavy-gauge steel wire.

We slept in peace while corn snow made tinkling sounds that were only interrupted by the entire 7-foot spruce crashing to the floor.

Bob screwed a thick metal bolt into our newly painted ceiling and secured the treetop to the bolt.

We're in awe of Eddie's tenacity. And we adore him. I cradle him as he closes his eyes, then opens them to see me close mine in return. We show eye-to-eye love for long, precious moments.

To us, pets are family. Pets matter more than furniture or ornaments. They count on us for sustenance: food, water, love. Ours love us in the purest unconditional sense. They will be ours until the very last breath they take.

I only wish Eddie didn't have nine lives. I wish he had a hundred.