One particularly cold Saturday in January, I was supposed to take our dog out for a walk, but it was so cold that I didn’t want to go outside. Instead, I just opened the door and let the dog out by himself. I kept an eye on him to make sure he would come back inside.

However, another neighborhood dog quickly ran past our house, and our dog sped after to catch him. I hurriedly went to grab my coat so I could follow my dog, and then I rushed outside. Unfortunately, I was already too late, and my dog was nowhere in sight. I walked a few blocks, but I was unable to find him.

Depressed, I returned home. My mother was standing at the door waiting, and she asked me what had happened. “I know I was supposed to walk our dog,” I admitted, “but I thought he would be able to go outside and come back by himself. Now he’s gone and I can’t find him anywhere.”

My mother was very angry with me; she said I should have been more responsible. She decided to help by making some signs. The signs read, “Lost: A big black dog. Please call us right away” and she printed our phone number on the bottom. “Okay, Darrell,” she said, as she handed over those signs, “now go post these on all the street posts.”

My sister-in-law Carol said she’d already picked out a kitten for me. I agreed to go with her… just to look. I made no promise to take one home. After all, only two months had passed since I lost my beloved calico cat, Mandi. Maybe I needed to be pet-free for a while.

When we got there, three of the four kittens remained in the litter. Carol picked up one and handed it to me. The beautiful face and white fur on the right side of her nose reminded me of a clown-like mask. How could I resist? Then another kitten, with an evenly balanced white face, jumped into my lap and purred.

Driving home in my British sports car proved difficult with two mischievous kittens. One clung to my left arm and shoulder, watching the fast-moving scenery outside. The other paced back and forth from my lap to the passenger’s seat, making it hard for me to shift gears. Both mewed in a loud duet(二重奏) of protest. Of course, I hadn’t brought a cage. I had not planned to take home a kitten — or two.

The clown-like-masked female earned the name Squeakette with her tiny voice squeaking about each new discovery as she explored her new home. The male, lacking only a black tie in his formal clothes, took the name Sebastian for my favorite composer, Johann Sebastian Bach.

A few weeks later, a neighbor helped me carry down my six-foot artificial Christmas tree from the attic(阁楼). I thanked him with a batch of cookies, and then set up the tree in the comer of my living room.

Sebastian and Squeakette knocked it down before I opened the box of decorations. After setting it upright, I straightened the few bent wire branches back into place. As I checked for any other damage, a quick flash of black-and-white fur passed by me. Up they went, branch by branch. The tree danced around as the two kittens took turns climbing it together. Sebastian made it to the top a moment ahead of Squeakette.

He lunged at me from the top, paws stretched out like wings.

Sensing their interest, I found a smaller Christmas tree for them.

Christmas was approaching, and I had absollutely no idea what to get for my wife. As usual, I had left my holiday shopping until the last minute. I always had the feeling that the perfect gift would somehow appear at the right time, although this didn’t always happen. This year I didn’t have any good ideas.

We had just moved to Italy. Donna was away attending a conference, so I had the rest of the week to work on the house and figure out what to get her as a Christmas gift before she got back.

My house companion (伴侣) while Donna was away was her cat, Princess. I was keeping Princess indoors in our new home until she became familiar with the place and then planned to slowly introduce her to the great outdoors.

However, one day as I was bringing in some groceries, to my shock and horror I suddenly found she was gone. Donna would be back in a few days and it would ruin Christmas for both of us if Princess was not back by then, safe and sound. Donna had already excitedly told me over the phone that she had found several fun toys and delicious snacks for Princess as Christmas gifts. She couldn’t wait to get back and wrap them up.

I was in big trouble. I had to find Princeess—and fast. So, I made a poster with her description and a hurried sketch (素描) of the cat that I personally drew because I couldn’t find a photo of her anywhere. I was sure my wife had hundreds on her phone, but I didn’t dare ask her for one. I didn’t want her to know that her precious cat had escaped.

Donna’s happy daily calls continued, as did my daily searches for Princess. I still hadn’t mentioned anything about the disappearance to my wife. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. It would destroy her.

Finally, the day came for my wife to return.

I picked up Donna at the Venice airport but still didn’t have the courage to tell her what had happened.

Just as I was about to break the bad newsabout Princess’s disappearing, guess who appeared walking up the driveway?