Archive Entry #75: April 15, 2015

For the first several decades of my life, I was a dog person. Our first family pet was a dog. My favorite pet of all time was a dog we called Sarge. On the farm in Griswold, Iowa, we had a cat whose social calendar quickly gave us multiple cats, an outcome that didn’t sit well with my dad. So I was never much of a cat fan. But my pet preferences began to change in the early 90s, principally with the help of a cat named “Mickey” who was owned and loved by the Anderson family (Tom, Paulette, Jennifer, and Amy). Mickey was the first cat I had ever met who cared whether I was alive, the first cat I ever actually liked. Our cat named “Annie,” a star in today’s archive entry, has proudly carried forward and expanded the Mickey tradition since we took possession of her more than twelve years ago. Her behaviors that I identified five years ago are still hers today. As well, the truth this column sought to communicate is still truth today.

COMING NEXT: The archive bids farewell to the year 2003 after its contribution of a column about cats, this one a sad and painful tale about the value of life. Find it HERE.