Yesterday I was feeling something and had this urge to drive up the hill and see P-22 (the Griffith Park mountain lion). He ate a few chihuahuas this past month and now the city wants to relocate him. I told my friend the other day that id feel a lot happier if Marilú could spend her day out chasing field mice and flirting with her cat suitors (she has many, my gorgeous girl). But the adoption agency and the shelter I worked at all said her living prospects decrease significantly if I let her out. I get it... cars, coyotes, cat COVID in the mice, and with my proximity to Griffith Park...P-22. Is LA the least cat friendly city in the world? These two felines a constant reminder of our fraught connection with animals. Marilú has built herself a jungle out of boxes and my discarded Halloween decorations. We fall asleep holding paws and I’m working on training her to go on walks. She reminds me P-22 might just be okay in this new chapter of his life.