He Had No Home, No Family—except for the Cat That Slept on His Chest Every Night. “she Chose Me,” He Said. “that’s All That Matters.”
The first time I saw him, he was asleep outside a laundromat, curled up on a torn mat with a small, orange cat stretched across his chest. Even in rest, he looked worn by life — duct-taped shoes, a trash bag as a backpack. I didn’t know their names then, but I started bringing them…