Eyes the color of Irish moss locked onto me and wouldn’t let me go. Willed me into returning the gaze. Made me fall in love on the spot. The rescue kitty, a silver tabby, had chosen me, and I’m so glad he did. He has been my teacher, as well as my friend.
He was so weensy, that at six weeks old he could snuggle up quite nicely in the palm of my hand. Not much time for snuggling, though. He had a cat’s boundless curiosity, which took him on endless excursions throughout the house, exploring this and that, taking such delight in absolutely everything. I would watch him wrestle with a paper bag, every inch of him thrown into the fray, nothing else in the world mattering, and I would think, “This is how life is supposed to be. This good, and this simple.” Read more