I have failed to mention the new “man” in my life. He was found in a cardboard box behind a dumpster. A woman waiting at her bus stop spotted him and decided to have compassion and take him to the nearest pet store. Which pet store? The one in which I’m employed, of course.

“Would you take him?”

“Me?”

“I figured you would know better than I do about what to do with an orphaned kitten.”

“Sure. I’ll take him.”

And I took him home where he has since become a permanent resident in our apartment. When I first got him home, he was scared to death of everything. He didn’t want to move at all. While I prepared a meal for him, I tried coming up with a name. I started calling him “Cheshire Cat,” which quickly turned into “Chesser,” which then turned into “Josser.” The reason why “Josser” stuck was because it’s the nickname of Jason Kill‘s younger and sweeter brother. Therefore, he is “Josser.”

Amy loves him. “Even more than Rudy,” she whispered to me tonight so Rudy wouldn’t hear. As I spent my time wrapping Christmas presents on the floor, Josser busied himself with the tearing of wrapping paper, ribbons and bows, and then quickly discovered the entertainment value of a PacSun plastic bag.

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