Lucky

Someone once told me that black cats bring bad luck into the house.
So I named him Lucky.

Lucky grew up in an open lot beside an apartment building. Of the four kittens, two had beautiful markings and two were black. A woman from the neighborhood fed them and was the only person they let pick them up.

One day, some teenagers asked her to put all four kittens in a basket, saying they wanted to adopt them. They took the two with pretty markings and let the black kittens slip out on purpose.

Their mother ran off, and the other black kitten followed her. Neither came back. After that, I’d find Lucky alone, his little legs stretched out and his back against the wall. I wondered if he missed having someone to lean against. I brought him home.

He liked to hide in dark corners, but whenever I called his name, he came running. We had four or five years together. I still miss the sound of his little feet.

Lucky…
You never brought me a bit of bad luck.
I was so lucky to have met you.
I’ll never forget you.