The Black Cat

Amber arrived on my doorstep shortly after I graduated College. It was the Winter of 1994, over 13 years ago. I had just moved out of my mom's house and was making it on my own for the very first time, in a tiny efficiency on the corner of 15th and Swann Street. 13 years ago, 15th and Swann was a different place than what it is today. I'd walk out the door each week on Friday and Saturday nights trying not to make eye contact with the locals drinking 40's on their doorsteps. I'd speed-walk one block East to a wildly strange and grungy bar called The Black Cat. It was like my second home back then. Sandy recognized my affinity for that place and one night she left a tiny stray kitten on my doorstep and knocked on the door. Amber has been with me ever since. We are eerily similar in our temperament and general personalities. There is a saying that pets become like their owners. We've grown to know and understand each other perfectly. Every night she sleeps with her head on my shoulder. I love her like a child. And in return, she loves me unconditionally.

Last year Amber was diagnosed with Kidney disease. A year ago, she was expected to live anywhere from 6 months to a couple years. I take care of her by giving her fluid injections every other day to help keep her hydrated. Other than that, I give her as much attention and affection as I can and I've made her home as comfortable as possible. At this stage in her life, I might be the only one that can keep her alive. Nothing and no one depends on me more than Amber, so in return she is my top priority.

P.S. She's been sitting in my lap the entire time that I wrote this.