I call Harper my gateway cat. After my sophomore year at SMU, Curtis was helping me pack up my apartment for the summer when he saw a FREE KITTENS sign down the street. He was a "cat guy" which I was suspicious of, but gradually warming up to. As a girl raised with what was basically a pack of dogs - 3 dachshunds and a doberman to be exact - I couldn't imagine life with a cat. But when we saw that sign, Curtis lit up. He chatted with the people in the front yard and we learned that the kittens were from their grandmother's farm cat, and as one apparently does, grandma loaded the kitties into a cardboard box, put them into her grandkid's car, and sent them to be handed out on the porch of a Highland Park duplex. The ones that didn't find homes would be going to a shelter and while I told Curtis I didn't think he needed to be a cat parent at 22, that if he found a black and white male, maybe it would be a sign. I couldn't go up to the box myself because the whole thing was making me kind of sad, so I feel like I threw out a random combo that I didn't actually think would be an option, but then he came strolling back with the tiniest black and white kitten that we named Truman, after Truman Capote's legendary Black and White Ball. A few days later, the vet told him that Truman was actually a little girl, and so she became Harper, after Harper Lee, who was famously a longtime friend of Capote. Now that little black and white ball of fur is 15 years old and I'm thoroughly a cat person. Today she humored Margaret and Catherine and wore the necklace they made her for pretty much the whole day and tonight she'll probably sleep right on my hip or tummy for a bit before getting feisty and instigating a middle of the night rumble with her least favorite roommate, Walker. Happy #internationalcatday to all who celebrate 🐈😆 📸 @jessierofferphotography