The Day I Met My Four-Legged Bestie

After years of financial struggles, I bought my first house (actually a townhouse) on November 26, 2013. That story will come soon.

Sometime during my first year there, I realized I wanted a pet. I kind of wanted a dog, but I knew my work schedule wouldn’t really allow it. Dogs need attention and regular walks, and my work schedule was pretty crazy.

Then one day, I came home and, as I walked up the stairs to my main floor, I saw a cat.

Not literally, but in my head.

The thought stuck with me, so on November 25, 2014, I grabbed my niece, who loves cats, and we went to the Humane Society in Newington, CT.

They walked us through the area where they had about 8–10 cats and kittens in cages. I think two or three were instant possibilities.

They then brought us to a small private room that I can picture to this day. There was a counter in front of you as you walked in and a bench to the right. Not much else.

My niece and I sat on the bench, and I think they may have brought in a cat or kitten before they brought in Pax.

Pax was a small orange kitten, born in September, to their best guess. They told us he had been found on the streets in Hartford.

He was an explorer.

He wandered around the room, checking everything out.

My niece and I both knew the second they brought him in that he was the one.

We also knew we were going to tweak his name from Pax to Jax. We were both Sons of Anarchy fans, and Jax was the name of one of the main characters.

We left with him, stopped at a pet supply store to grab everything he needed, and brought him to my home.

Jax is now twelve years old and remains my best four-legged friend.

My “Little Buddy.”

The “Orange One.”

My “Little Dude.”

He and I have been through a lot in our nearly twelve years together, as you’ll see.

As I write this, he is lying on the couch behind me.

I love you, Little Buddy.