06/03/2025
I’m moving soon, and my heart is breaking. For the past three years, I’ve shared my life with a wild man I call Big Guy—someone else knows him as Birdie, because, well, he has a thing for catching birds. He's not technically my cat, but he’s been a constant companion. He’s been here since I moved in, and according to the neighbors, he’s been around the apartment complex for over 8 years.
Everyone said he never let anyone touch him—until me. Somehow, we bonded. He’s like family now. He naps on my patio furniture, walks with me and my dogs, and greets me at my car no matter how far away he is. He runs to me through storms, fireworks, lawnmowers—this brave little soul always comes home to me.
One of my favorite memories was last spring, when I found this woman on the Tedooo app who makes hand-painted garden tiles. I asked her to make one with his face on it, just in case I ever had to leave. It’s still tucked between the lavender bushes where he likes to sit in the afternoon sun.
Every day, he comes inside to nap, snack, play with the dogs, and get a good head scratch. But now that I’ve bought my first home, I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to take him in, to make sure he’s safe. But another part says this is his home. He made this place his long before I arrived. And maybe, just maybe, I was just meant to be his friend while I was here.
