My first car was a very red Peugeot 104.
It was used, I had paid for it myself and I absolutely loved that car.
Handwashed it every week.
It wasn't a very good car, though and my grandfather decided I should get a new one.
I handed in my 104 and he put up the extra cash for a brandnew white Peugeot 205.
The car was delivered when I was on holiday.
Also during this holiday, my cat fell suddenly very ill and my parents had no other choice than to put him out of his misery.
So, when I got home there was this white car that, I felt, had taken the place of my white cat, whom I had loved very much.
He was the most intelligent, smart, special cat that ever lived.
Ofcourse it is silly, but I never forgave the car and hated it the entire 3 years that I owned it.