I found Hannah in San Diego. She was a “canyon cat,” and most people do know what that means. To explain, San Diego has a landscape of hills, and canyons. Nobody really builds in the canyons because the ground is not stable. I remember my last rental house in San Diego was right up against a canyon. I used to want to go out to the cacti and pick dragon fruit, but I’d probably never make it back because the snakes would have killed me.

But anyhow, Hannah’s whore mother came up into someone’s back yard and dropped a load of kittens in their kids’ playhouse. They kept their kids away from the litter and adopted them out.

I really need to backtrack now for a dream sequence. Imagine me three days prior in bed taking a nap. My late husband, Larry, was in the living room with our friend Carol watching TV. I came out of my bedroom and said, “Where’s Hannah?” They looked at me like, “Hannah who?” I said, “The little black and white cat.” After a while I realized that I was dreaming and it all blew over because it was no big deal.

A couple of days later, Larry’s co-worker Readean told us that she knew of people that had a litter of kittens in their back yard. We were looking for a companion for our other cat, so we paid a visit. They couldn’t find the last cat. But finally under a wood pile they dragged out who would soon be Hannah. She was malnourished, covered in dirt and fleas, and just terrified to be alive.

We took the kitten to a vet, who determined she was ok to be away from her mother at that point. They gave her a flea bath, some prescription kitten food, and sent us on our way. We had her fixed like a month later. We didn’t actually see her in the house for months though. We knew she was eating, drinking, and shitting, but never when we were around.

Let’s fast-forward to a few years later. Hannah was comfortable with all humans, and very demanding. If the food was empty, she was chasing us down. She learned to love people and to love attention.

She was 21 when her internal organs called it quits. That’s a really good life for a cat. I’m not sad that she’s gone, but I’m happy that we got to spend so many years with her in our house.