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For at least a couple of months, I had been trying to catch a feral kitten who I kept seeing behind the dumpster of a restaurant where I often went in late 2022. He was sometimes in the parking lot scrounging for food, but he took off like a shot any time I tried to get close.

Three years ago today, I used a trap to catch this tiny little boy. He joined my household that day and he’s now the senior feline in residence. The scared little boy of Dec. 3, 2022 has become a confident ruler in the three years he’s been with me.

Here’s his story in three minutes. Watch it below or click here to watch it on YouTube.

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It was three years ago tonight when I first got close enough to photograph a small cat who I now call Alex.

For weeks, I had been trying to get close to a tiny feline — maybe 4 months old — who was living behind the garbage dumpster at a restaurant where I used to go. He had been scared enough to get away from everyone who had tried to catch him.

He seemed to spend much of his time in the relative safety of the drainage system at the end of the parking lot. Every time I got close to him, he would dart into an opening and disappear. On this night, I got close enough to take the picture you see above, but when I got any closer, he was gone like a shot.

A friend eventually insisted that I use a trap to capture him. I kept trying to do it my way, but he kept escaping. Finally, my friend bought a trap for me and insisted I try it. And she was right.

I caught the little guy. He was terrified, but he quickly learned to trust me. He had a huge personality, so I named him Alexander the Great. Alex for short. Today, he’s the senior of the three current cats in my home.

But just as importantly, he’s one more of a long line of cats and dogs who let me feel as though I’m rescuing creatures in the same way that I wish someone could have rescued me when I was a child.

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It felt as though my heart was going to explode with joy.

She loved me. She told me she loved me. I had already fallen in love with her, but I was terrified that maybe she might not love me in return. And then came those magical words.

“I love you, David.”

As long as she loved me, nothing else mattered. We could overcome any problem. I could climb any mountain that our relationship required me to climb. I could be whatever I needed to be. The world changed in that moment — all because she loved me.

We loved each other deeply. We said the words — both aloud and in writing — all the time. (What you see above is a screenshot of her very own keystrokes from an email I still have. I still have all of them.) We expressed the feelings to one another in ways that made the world seem alive and magical. The world was bright and loving and perfect, all because she loved me and I loved her.

Until everything changed. My heart was broken and bruised. So was hers. But why?

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