The Cats of My Lives

Eight, to be exact

This is the seventh. Photo by Author.

The first one we called Surprise. I’ll never forget his loud purr, painful kneading claws, and the way he hopped on our carpeted stairs to nab you when you least expected. He used to follow us on walks along the golf course towards the docks. He’d also leave for days, trying his best impression of a roving male. Then he just never came back.