Like welcomed and celebrated children, beloved pets have many names. My most recent furry, four-legged gift from the Universe arrived some twenty years ago singing his kitty song as he emerged from the long grasses of a nearby meadow. On a break from writing, I sat on the front stoop of this woodsy home eating lunch. I couldn’t quite believe my ears when I heard him. As he rounded the corner of the cabin, I felt he knew exactly where to find me.
No feral cat this. I knew the signs because I’d tried to tame several of his wild relatives before our meeting on this summer day. Ever since I discovered that living in a woodsy cabin meant sharing space with all manner of insects, mice, voles, and squirrels, I’d been longing for a cat companion. In those days, I couldn’t remember a time when I’d lived without one. My longing was huge.