When I was living near New York City during college, I’d go to Central Park on nice weekends and walk the trails. I saw plenty of people walking dogs, but the first time I saw a guy walking his cat, I was amazed. A cat on a leash?
Fast-forward a couple of years. I’d moved back to the Lodi area and had a new kitten, Sparrow, who was a handful. She may have been the size of my hand, but she lived up to the calico reputation from the start. She was always getting into trouble and trying to get outside. She didn’t want to go far — most of the time, she was content to hang out in the enclosed outdoor patio space attached to my apartment.