One night, sitting on the cold steps at the back of my apartment in Kansas, I’d been staring out into the darkness. The only light came from my cigarette. Rain soaked (浸湿) through my pants, but I didn’t care. Back in my room, there was a knife on the bedside table and a note on my computer screen. I hoped that whoever read it first would understand why I had the plan to end it all.

Six months before that night, a car accident caused a brain injury in me. I lost my job and had to live on my savings in my lonely apartment. Since then, I had been suffering from depression and struggling to get through each day.

I sat there on those cold steps just wanting to end it all. “Tonight. I will,” I thought as I took another drag of my cigarette.

“Meow?”

I looked up. A black and white cat with round green eyes looked back at me. He meowed again. Then, walking out from his hiding spot, he jumped at me. He was tiny and damp, but he rubbed up against my legs. When I reached down to pet him, he leaned into my touch, purring (发出呼噜声).

That was all it took. I cried. The cat just watched me. I didn’t scare him away. In fact, he stood there as if he knew how desperately I needed a companion right at that very moment.

I looked into his big green eyes and he looked back. Clearly a stray (流浪的) cat. “When was the last time you ate?” I said. My plan to end it all was put on hold, at least until I found this cat some food.

It became a routine: Every day, I’d go to the back steps with some cat food. Usually, the cat, whom I named Scout, was already waiting for me. He became more than something to live for. Over time he inspired me to get help for my depression and even gave me the confidence to get into a serious relationship with Becky in Pittsburgh, whom I had known for years.

Scout became my constant companion.

I was far from the lonely and depressed man that Scout had first approached in the rain, but I still needed to make a few more changes.

Wilson was always living with his beloved dog, Jack, which was such an energetic six-year-old collie (牧羊犬) that he would meet him every day at the trolley (电车) station when Wilson returned from work. This was a routine that had begun when Jack was a pup (小狗). The dog knew the route to and from the station like the back of his paw-and following that route was the highlight of his day.

Then one day Wilson had to change his job and had to move to California. He thought it best to leave Jack at his home in Philadephia with Alice, a closest relative. He explained all this to the dog upon leaving and told him that they both would have to adjust to their respective new homes.

But Jack didn’t want a new home. He would not stay with the family he had been left with. He returned to Wilson’s old house, even though it was boarded up, and there he passed his lonely days beside an abandoned chair in the porch. But every evening, tail wagging, he trotted (小跑) off to the trolley station.

For as long as Jack had been in the world, Wilson had always taken the same trolley home from work, and Jack had been there to greet him. But evening after evening, there was no sign of the devoted dog’s master. Confused and sad, he would return alone to the deserted house.

The dog’s depression grew. He refused the food left for him, and as the days passed, he became thinner and thinner and his ribs (肋骨) could be seen even through his thick blond coat. But every evening, ever hopeful, he’d go to the station to meet the trolley. And every evening, he would return to the porch more depressed than before. No one knows why Jack’s new family didn’t contact Wilson.

Jack’s worsening condition got noticed.

The trolley soon took Wilson to the station.

One day in 2001, when I was eight years old, my family and I were coming back from a baseball game, which was our usual weekend adventure. But unlike other weekends, a surprise was waiting for us. Two adult wild geese and a small wild goose were wandering around our yard. The adults were frightened by us and flew away, but their baby was still too young to fly and couldn’t follow.

It was freezing cold when night fell. Concerned about the wild goose’s safety, we begged dad to protect the little guy. Dad took the tiny little thing to the back porch (门廊) to keep warm and protect him from wild animals. The small wild goose seemed in a panic, unaware of what could happen. The next morning, we try to drive the wild goose over to his parents, who kept coming back to our yard. He wouldn’t go to them, and they wouldn’t come close to take him. We kept this up for six days, but no luck. By then, the young wild goose had clearly decided we were his new family. My sister Anna called the little guy Peeper, because he would follow us around the yard making a peeping noise, nonstop. Every time we called his name, he would respond. We also decided that Peeper was a boy, I don’t know why; it just felt right.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months until almost a year passed. Peeper liked to sleep on our back porch each night, and every day my dad would clean up all the goose droppings (鸟兽的粪便) carefully. Dad would throw Peeper up into the air so he could fly a circle around the house, coming back again once the porch was clean. But this time, Peeper just flew off.