Allow me to answer that by foremost stating there is no adequate scale to define my love for everything feline. There is nothing else in the entire world I pour more passion and love into - nothing I legitimately care about in the same sense. I have been exposed to great horror and enormous triumph, yet nothing is more sincere to me than that which is of Felidae, and everything else feels distant as though I cannot feel it unless it involves these things. I have sacrificed tens of thousands of dollars into the conservation and preservation of the cat and all its forms. It has been a point of mine to learn all the various forms of communication that they may display and to know what it means without thought, even when I knew the answer already to begin with. All of my extraordinary experiences internal have come to me as felid in variety; even in my instances of near death, these things carried with me. 

Countless hours of my life have been committed to the study and the pursuit of the understanding; classes, dissertations, dialogues, essays, speeches, what have you. My blood burns with agonizing violence at the sense of maltreatment unto these things, just as swiftly as it can run cold and bring a sense of terrifying calm in embracing the symbolic meaning. My domain is decorated in fragments of fossils and artwork, bones, relics, all of this one brand of carnivore. There is joy beyond joy to be just in the presence of them and it is what one would call a religious experience to be in some of these ancient places with them.

[@Chasebloodcrest], there is nothing in this world that is as much me as I am it. A simple "one-hundred of one-hundred" does not describe it.