I didn’t want to live with a cat. I certainly didn’t want to live with a cat in my house. I was certain that I didn’t like cats. I was wrong.
Years ago, my ex-wife wanted a cat. She had grown up with felines and had great memories of them. I had grown up with a father who would sooner spontaneously combust than have an animal inside his perfect house, so I knew very, very little of cats or dogs from experience. At best, I was indifferent. But Melissa wanted a cat, so I decided to find one for her.
It was my sister, Mary, who found a stray kitten in Mountain Brook, which is an upscale Birmingham suburb very close to the local zoo. I had mentioned to her that I was looking for a cat, so she called me to come take a look when Melissa wasn’t around — so it would be a surprise for her. I went to Mary’s apartment to see this tiny furball who seemed more like a starving street urchin than the healthy kittens I’d seen in cat food commercials.
I got got down on the floor with him. He came over to me and rubbed against my face — gingerly at first, but then with abandon. I smiled and suddenly felt warmer inside. I didn’t want a cat, but something inside me did. What was I getting into?

My need to make others perfect reflects my fear I’m not in control
You’re wrong! If you don’t agree, you’re just an evil, lying moron
Can’t we all get along? Why is the liberty movement so fragmented?
Opening a business? It’s easier to do in Rwanda than in U.S. today
In the name of ‘fairness,’ everyone forced to pay for expensive chair lifts
VIDEO: Dangerous ideas are the ones that change world for good
You can’t see inside my heart, but my words invite you to know me
Tribal instincts cause us to see others as evil, when they’re just different