When I was in college, I had a cat in a million, and I’m not kitten about that.
During my last year of college, I was so broke that when I went to the park, the pigeons threw bread at me. I was living in a 10×49 trailer with my bird dog and a cat; the cat was an 18-pound tomcat that had been neutered a little too late, so he had the build of a panther, and the characteristic big tomcat head, easily the size of a softball. He also had his full complement of 18 retractable switchblades in his paws fore and aft and never backed down from a fight, even my neighbor’s 50-pound mutt who came after my big tomcat one evening and went home rather badly cut up. He was one of a kind, and his name was Felix. Felix only lived to be about eight years old before dying of a bladder infection; a cat like him should have lived a hundred years, but sadly, he didn’t. He did have two great positives:…
