After, I watched a video of him, Tiger, when he was still alive, purring. There was no sense I could make of it, but I tried. I wrote the article and then I wrote another. I checked for updates every day about the court case, which is still pending.
I could not bear to hold the image of Tiger in my mind while looking at my own cat. Sometimes, I had to go for a walk outside, and not be around the animal I love at all.
* An animal activist tells me over a vegan lunch that she can't sleep at night.
Months later, approaching the Yulin dog meat festival, I cannot eat.
I think of the hypocrisy, too. I think of the cows and pigs I've met who I relate to in the same way as I relate to my cat. I should be sick all the time.
My stomach turns. I dream about a whale trapped in a fountain, and wake up throughout the night.
* Those first days with the new cat with one white whisker, we were still strangers, even though, now, we were sharing a home.
In keeping with a multi-generational tradition in my weird family of naming cats after pastries, I named her Brioche. Brioche brought the tradition into a fourth generation.