July 26, 2008 Saturday

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It was thirteen years ago yesterday that Opie came home to live with us. He'd been abandoned in a field near where I worked. He was adopted by the company's smokers, who first noticed him from the loading dock (the official smoking lounge). We took turns feeding him, and he took up residence under the plastic chairs on the loading dock.

But I was the one who spent time with him, chatting and petting. Which meant I had to be the one who took him home. Which, of course, I did.

And we've never regretted it. Opie was the perfect cat. And he made our lives that much better just by his presence. He's been gone three years and we still miss him.