When my Beloved and I went over to our friends’ apartment to pick up Tessie-cat (then only a Tessie-kitten) in early 1994, we found her cowering behind a couch.

Now, over 18 years later, she still loves couches, but now mostly as a place to sleep, all day, every day. Those of us who are wise in our old age all learn to chill out.

My friend, Dave—not his real name, but the same “Dave” as in the Love-Idiot book— Dave and his bride had brought home a pair of 2½-month-old kittens, both beautiful, jet-black sisters. One they adopted and named Nikki. The other we adopted, and we named her Tessie.

Proof that God has a sense of humor is that he created cats.

We share our apartment with a sleek, black cat, whom we call “Tessie,” a high-strung Burmese (or something thereabouts). I call her my Spooky Cat, because she has always been terrified of any living creature, and a few dead ones.

When we went to pick her up, to take her home, she was hiding behind the couch. Her sister Nicki, just as sleek and just as black, was hobnobbing it up with everyone in the kitchen. My friend Dave and I—not his real name, but the same “Dave” that I mention in the Love-Idiot book—we had to move the couch to get at her, all the while screaming at her to get her ass up here, because we had a fricassee going and nothing to put in it.

No, seriously, we were as quiet and gentle as we could be. But as cats are wont to do, she tried to run away. Fortunately, I was smarter than she was, she being just a kitten and I being an old man in my 20-somethings. So I grabbed her, at which point she attempted to scratch my eyes out.