There are always exceptions, and when you meet an extraordinary cat—one that defies the nature of all others—you've discovered something divine: a cat that loves like a dog. I had such a cat. She was wild, feral - my grandmother would say - she has adopted us as she would always came back. She was strong, determined, street smart and unyielding. If the door was locked, she would force her way in, as if her will alone could break through.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m coming,” I would call out to her, but she wouldn’t wait or even acknowledge me. Perhaps the cat in her chose to ignore me. And yet, the moment the door opened, she would saunter in as though nothing had happened, finding a warm spot beside me - after rubbing herself on me - now you belong to me. She’d curl up to sleep, completely at ease, but if I dared to touch her, her claws would flash, leaving sharp, needle-like scratches as a reminder of her boundaries - maybe thats how she knew how to play and show love. She loved the play - and I remember feeding off my fingers and the memory of tiny tongue and razor like hooks.

Despite her wild nature, she was an incredible cat and an incredible mother. Over the years, she had several litters, and not once did she lose a single kitten. She was fierce, nurturing, and utterly remarkable—a contradiction wrapped in fur, and a soul I’ll never forget.