when becky turned 8, she got a kitten. she named him 'smokey'.
over the years his name turned into 'moke.'
i loved moke.
he made me love cats, with all their intricacies and nuances and subtleties.
he used to like to sit by the sliding door, staring out into the world. he would imagine himself going outside, being a wild cat, jumping from house to house, catching mice and living the grand life of a feline.
sometimes we would let him out. he would rush outside and begin sneaking around, but soon realize that the world was colder than it looked and not quite what he imagined. within a few minutes, he would be at the door, wanting to come back in.
then he would sit and look out the window from where it was nice and warm.
i often thought that if i were a cat, i would be moke.