I was sitting on the sofa this afternoon writing when my older cat came in the room and hopped up beside me and plunked himself down and went to sleep. Watching him, I had a moment of awe. My mom and I took him in about 12 years ago. When we brought him into our family he was almost feral. He would bite us, swipe at us, and scratch us. He was not a friendly cat at all, but for some reason he saw something in us and chose us as his forever home. We think he is now about 16 years old and with time and patience (a lot of patience) he has become such a love bug. But he also runs the household like a boss. His sense of time borders on paranormal. I feed him dinner at 5:30 and if I’m not in the kitchen preparing his food at that moment he will come find me and alert me with his croaky meow. We got a dog a couple of years ago and he made sure to know who was in charge pretty quickly. All this in a nine pound bundle of fur. My favorite memory I have with him was the night my dad passed away and I had gone to bed and was crying. He came upstairs into my room and hopped up on my bed and stayed with me until I fell asleep. Even now that memory brings tears to my eyes. That’s why I love having animals. They are such companions, such true friends. They never judge you, never criticize you, they just love you. So, sitting there watching him sleep, running my fingers along his fur I just felt so blessed to have him. I feel that way because he chose us to be his home and I wonder what exactly he did see in the glimpses he had of us before he made his decision. Whatever he did see, I’m glad he did.