Life is weird, it has a way of showing you the road and a way of teaching you lessons that you might not want to learn, of showing you happiness and then take it away.

It was middle school, and I was sad; And one day, I wasn't. I found a cat.

Or did I? Thinking back, maybe she found me; I would at least like to think we found each other, because I want to believe I changed her life just as much as she changed mine.

She was roaming the street, looking without looking, surviving, eating out of trash cans and infuriating neighbors, living day to day, maybe just getting by now that I think about it; but one fateful day, she was not rummaging through garbage, one fateful day, the usually cautious and clever cat, let herself be fed by a human, by me.

I was walking back from the store, just picked up the milk for my mom, and there she was, hiding a little bit inside a garage, I looked at her, she was tiny, could not have been over six months and yet, fully adapted to live life outside; I was in awe, we humans need many years to even be able to tie shoelaces and there she was, still a kitty but already dominating life.

It was not far from home, I thought maybe some food would give her comfort, maybe some milk, perhaps I would even manage to pet her, although I had no expectations; I rushed home, grabbed some deli meat from the fridge and promptly returned to the secluded spot.

At first, reluctance, tried my best to show her I meant no harm, but she was cautions, she probably had learned early in life that humans are cruel and treacherous, specially in a world that stigmatizes her kind so much. Stayed there for half an hour, no luck she would not be lured out, so I changed my tactic. Decided to let her come to me... and she did.

A few bites of the deli ham and some milk later, I was able to pet her, she was tiny, athletic, like any feral cat would be, you need to be agile and nimble when you fight for your life every day, thinking back she was probably having a rough time, otherwise I don't think she would have let her guard down so much.

I said my goodbyes wished her luck and started walking home, but then, she started following me, did not even notice until I was home, I tried explaining to her that my mom did not like pets and I could not keep her, that she needed to move on and find a good owner but she had already made her mind up.

Three days passed, mother forbade me from giving her any food or attention and yet, she did not budge, three days she stood outside my house, no water, no food, it was a battle of wills between my mom and this cat. My mom lost, that day she showed me what patience and an iron will could accomplish, that day I knew this was no ordinary cat.

A couple of weeks later, she followed me everywhere, I went to get chicken livers and hearts every Monday for her and she would jog behind me, in retrospective, it probably looked really funny, a teenager in a bike "chased" by a cat.

Every day coming back from school, she was standing outside the house, just waiting for me, she really made my days, just arriving and watching her waiting for me outside, never stopped doing that, she taught me what loyalty was like.

Months passed and one day she did not arrive home, I was worried, it was a first but I trusted her and knew she was a clever cat and could find the way back and could navigate any pickle, after all she was still a free cat that just decided to stay with me and give me company.

A couple of days went by, I got worried, started asking around, went out looking, printed some fliers and put them up in stores, no luck.

Then the third day, I woke up and I knew, somehow I knew exactly were to find her. You see, there was an old water deposit at home, nobody paid attention to it since it was not deep for anyone to get injured and it was also in a place that was not transited at all, so it was just left uncovered out of procrastination. But for a cat, this was a dead trap, impossible to climb and just tall enough that jumping was really hard, specially for an injured cat.

The day I found her injured on the deposit, she was not angry or sad, or even depressed. She was just there, waiting, did not even meow; she also had a broken hip. That day, I saw what a will to live can do.

I often wonder how much she hurt when I was taking her out of that hole, a broken bone is pretty painful, but not a single whimper came out of her mouth, this was a tough cat, or maybe she just did not want me to worry too much.

Months passed, she healed, I did my best to nurse her back to health, she made a full recovery, I was happy.

She started hanging outside my window on Saturdays, I would hear a meow outside and let her in, then she would "bathe" my hair and I fell asleep to the purring sound, those are some of my most fond memories.

Half a year went by, she went missing again, we already have covered the water deposit by that time, I hoped for the best.

Two days later she arrived, looked like crap, seemed she had gotten into a fight, had to shower her, she did not like water but at the same time she was never aggressive, the look on her face was what I could only describe as a "loving fuck you", did not know what had happened, did not care I was only happy that she was back.

Then two months later, I knew what had happened, she had gone to town and now I had kitties. Oh such an idiot I was to not have snipped her on time, we kept them all, we loved them all, they all had good lives but this is not their story. We had her fixed immediately after that, did not want anymore kitties.

Time came to take the stitches out, at first I did not want to get involved in it, I did not want her to hate me. My parents really tried their best to hold her down, but oh boy, she was a strong cat, my dad looked like he cut his arm with a seesaw, finally my mom budged and asked me for help. I walked up to my cat and started talking, I told her that it would feel weird maybe even hurt (although she probably knew that already by that moment) but that it was for her own good and to be brave, she looked at me, did not move or hurt anyone else for the rest of the process. That day I saw what trust could accomplish.

Then one day, I could not find her again. Looking back I wish I was more insistent in having her inside, I wish we had fixed her sooner, I wished I was there when she arrived. But I wasn't.

Couple of days passed, until one morning I found her, she was dead, nothing was wrong with her, she was not sick, she did not seem injured and yet, she was dead, hiding inside the house I know she loved, but I knew she was trying to stay away from me, I knew she was trying to spare me the pain of finding her. But at the same time, that was her house and I pretty sure she wanted to end her days there.

I never knew what happened, I guess she was probably poisoned, people don't like cats too much where I lived and she was perhaps too crafty for her own good.

I hate that she died alone, I hate that I did not find her sooner, I hate that I could not save her, I hate that I did not have more time with her.

After all these years, I still miss her. I would have liked her to meet my wife, my dogs, travel with me on my adventures, purr in my bed, keep me warm in winter, I would also have liked to have been a better owner, to tell her how much she made my life happy, to be with her when she died.

I always remember the first day I saw her, just a regular tabby, did not care, cats are not made to be fancy, they don't need to, all of them are elegant and faithful, even when most people don't like them. I think most people, they just don't understand, cats are not pets, they are partners, they are friends, they are teachers, but most important of all, they are all love.