I am buried under deadline, with no time nor energy to post, but I can not let a Halloween black cat go by without expressing my admiration. The original black cat who lived with me, whose loss I continue to mourn, was born on Halloween night, straight to my open hands, ten years ago tomorrow.
How I miss him! A better friend no man ever had.
Once, I employed Little Guy (the original black cat) in a scheme to frighten trick or treators. It didn't work. Instead of terror, they felt charmed, and wanted me to drop him into their open bags.
So, Cole, don't try to frighten any trick or treators. I don't think you can do it. May you grace your household for many Halloweens to come.
PS: I might add that the fact that at this very moment, the black cat of the present time lies curled up but feet away from me, sleeping in his box in the office we share, is of no small comfort. Yet, the fact that if I had not lost the original black cat, then the black cat of the present time, this wonderful friend of mine, would have all but certainly been put down at the pound, is a conumdrum that I continually wrestle with, for he lives only because my original great friend does not.
What kind of strange world is this?
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