I remember the moment I first laid eyes on him.
I was sitting cross-legged by the fireplace writing something in my notebook when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye; someone blond had come through the entrance way. I looked up to see who’d just strolled into the house, and watched on as he was warmly greeted by everyone in the living room. I’d never seen him at the Barry’s before but he moved like he did it every day—how was that possible? He came right up to me and introduced himself, and I know from the sound of my voice that my own was dripping with affection. His eyes were startlingly blue—like two aqua crystals— and I kept talking to him just so that he’d keep looking at me. The longer he sat with me, the harder I fell. When he went outside to see the garden my feelings were so strong they brought me to announce to the room that he was mine, forever mine.
His name is Tom. Things are serious. He comes over every day and even sleeps over some nights.
Also he’s a cat, and doesn’t belong to us. His collar said “Tom” but didn’t have an address or a phone number so I don’t think it would be in his best interest to find his owner, who’s obviously stupid. We’ve told a couple neighbors and the local stores about his appearance but I secretly hope that word doesn’t spread too far. I feel like a terrible person wishing that (maybe he belongs to a little girl!) but love makes you unreasonable.
So I may have stolen him, but in my defense Tom started it—he stole my heart. He’s coming back to the States with me for sure, I can’t wait to introduce him to the family. I know you guys will love him and see how happy he makes me.