Siggy, my 1 1/2-year-old cat, enjoys playing fetch with small balls and running to the front door to go for a walk on her leash. She’s not an affectionate cat, as female Maine Coons tend to be independent and more like dogs, staying by you but not in your lap.

Dogs care about their guardians. They protect, snuggle, and kiss. Their loyalty and love are boundless and treasured.

Cats don’t have guardians. They have persons. They actually choose those persons. Siggy chose me, and her sister, Freya, chose my wife, Diane.

Cat glands give off different scents when they choose their persons. Siggy has this scent: soft, powdery, and fruity, “redolent of currants.” Freya smells like hot buttered popcorn. Suffice to say, Diane was enchanted.

Cats claim their persons for good evolutionary reasons. They believe your job is to feed them, clean up after them, play with them on demand (but only as long as they choose), and allow you to live in their home rent-free.

They love you deeply, but in a feline way, putting their scent on you so that any other cat knows to whom you belong. And they care for you in subtle ways, which is what Siggy has done this week with me.

Did you know that cats have an acute sense of smell and, according to CBS NEWS, “have the ability to sniff out a chemical change in the body caused by a disease”? They detect any change in their daily routine, and “can also sense the differences in behavior both physically and psychologically due to an illness.”

I have been ill on and off all month. I don’t have the flu, or one that my doctor can detect, but my chest X-rays show scarring from coughing. Siggy noticed before the symptoms kicked in. She goes to my nose, smells and then stares at me. When that happens, I know something is amiss.

When my symptoms became very bad a few days ago, she did the same thing but then ran to the front of the house. I figured that she wanted to go on her leash, but instead, she bolted up the stairs where our bedrooms are.

I didn’t take the hint the first time, curious about her meows. I returned to the living room, and she came up to me, smelled my nose again, and then ran to the front of the house and up the stairs again. This time I followed. She jumped on my bed and waited until I crawled in. Then she stood guard.

Today she did the same thing. Only this time she crawled under the covers with me and purred until I fell asleep.

I’m recovering from whatever this is. But I wanted to show Siggy’s followers and fans that cats care, deeply, lovingly. A dog’s love is obvious and glorious. But a cat’s love is mystical, and that, say the sages, is what love is supposed to be.

May a cat choose you one day to be their person. If so, you may live longer. Cats, like dogs, extend human life by years. But cats do one more thing. A 2009 study, published in the Journal of Vascular and Interventional Neurology, examined 4000 people over 20 years found that ones who lived with cats had a decreased risk for death due to heart attack or stroke.

There’s that magic again. Thank you, Siggy, for taking care of me this week. If I could purr without coughing, I would.