I just saw a cat. It was scruffy and dirty and white. Something about it seemed old, almost prehistoric. Stout faced, wild and walking these city streets.

And I saw another cat. A black cat sauntering across asphalt. Unbothered as I drive toward it, paying no heed to my need for speed. Daring me with its yellowed glare.

And the cat at home: cute, fat, a purr machine. Cold now, it is the season of the ever-loving May. Toxoplasmosis has infected my mind. She belongs to us.

---