Never in a million years did I think I'd become one of those people who talks about their pet. For one thing, I'd never had a pet, and, consequently, I didn't comprehend the bond people have with their animals. Growing up, our neighbors had a gorgeous Alaskan husky that loved to lounge in our backyard, and a cat that left dead mice (also in our backyard) as offerings. M. first proposed the idea of getting a cat last fall, and I resisted.
Then I spoke with a co-worker who is one of the least sentimental people I know; she not only said she couldn't imagine not having a cat, but pointed out that they offer unconditional love. I'd been focusing on all the ways in which an animal would be a pain and a bother, not considering that it might actually add something to my life. Well, here he is, Hugo de Stefano, probably the only cat named after a literary great and a great soap villain.
