Do you remember the time you met your best friends? How old you were, or where you were? I’m sure you do, as the same for most people. Well, I mostly do not. I could not tell you the circumstances in which I have met nearly anyone I know. Same applies to my closest friends. Maybe one or two hazy stories, but nothing really stands out. People have told me a lot of interesting stories about the first time we met, but unfortunately, I hardly remember any of them vividly except two. The day I met the love of my life and more importantly, the night I met my best friend, Jack. I had just moved into a little house in a small town called Elida, right outside of Lima, Ohio. Yes, Lima. There were more things I needed to retrieve from Cleveland and by this time, I had met these cousins named Alex and Asia. Alex and I had grown a bit fond of each other so her mother offered us her truck to drive home and pick up my remaining items. It is lovely to meet someone who trusts you enough to take their only car three hours away. Their family was wonderful to me and considering where I resided, it was much appreciated. Sadly, Alex and I didn’t get to know each ther much better. I don’t often look back in general, at least not fondly, and almost never about romances. I don’t quite see the point, and I honestly don’t have many fond memories in general. I have a lot of mental differences, including Autism. So, my mind has held on to a lot of traumatic memories instead of good ones. It’s unfortunate, but it is my existence. Although, I do think the joy of having Jack as a best friend still aids me in remembering clearer details of others. It may sound crude, but I can almost assure you that if Jack was not involved in our meeting I could have just as easily forgotten Alex. In Cleveland after the remainder of my things were collected, I needed to make one last stop. Before heading back to Lima, I needed to visit a friend and grab some furniture. When we arrived, his Mom had several courses of dinner made. Naturally, she wanted us to eat before we left. And she was certainly curious about whose truck I was driving and who I had with me. Fortunately, it was getting too late for a meal and an interrogation so we made some to go plates, packed up the last of the things and began to head out. Just then my friend's Mum runs back out waving her hand as if I had forgotten something precious. I roll down the window and she yells, “Want a kitten!?” “A what!? Naw, what do I want with a cat!?” I asked in bewilderment. “Well they were born too soon and the mother ran off so we lost a few. A couple were taken by some friends and there is only one left! I can’t have any more animals around here! The kids pets are always around and I said ‘NO MORE!’” She hollard. I definitely was not in any position to take a baby animal. Especially not one that needed special care. “No way!” I said. “What would my Papaw say if he knew I got a cat?” I thought out loud. My friend's mother, your average idea of an Italian mom, persisted. I knew that I was not getting out of there without seeing this kitten and you know how persistent Momas can be. Especially when you already didn’t eat. “I’m gonna go get him anyway! Just look at him and you’ll see!” She persisted. I shoved the big truck’s shifter back into park and slouched back into the seat with a huff that comes standard with a teenage only child. “OOOOHHHH MMYYYY GOOOOOD” As I still say when something is a minor inconvenience. “Fine!” I groaned. Just as quickly as she ran off she was back. With two hands she was cupping this little thing that could easily fit in one.This little dude had the audacity to raise his head, look up at me, meow and present me with a mustache! A mustache.This cat had a mustache.He meowed directly at me into my eyes and meowed again. As to say, “Yes Antonio.You are mine now and I am yours.” I perked up and yelled, “WOW, Did they all have mustaches!?” Dean's mom said “nope!” while laughing and smiling. The girls had plenty of “Awws” on deck so knew they would not be supportive of me leaving this kitten behind. “Who wouldn’t take the cat with the mustache!? What kind of friends do you have, Mrs G!?” I exclaimed, probably rudely. I grabbed my little guy, looked him in the face and right on the spot I thought “You’re a Jack!” And so it was. For as talkative as he was, after driving for about 30 minutes, he was fast asleep right in my lap. I grabbed my little guy, looked him in the face and right on the spot I thought “You’re a Jack!” And so it was. For as talkative as he was, after driving for about 30 minutes, he was fast asleep right in my lap. The whole three hour drive I thought “Jack is going to piss in my lap.Doesn’t cat pee smell really bad? Isn’t it toxic!?Man, I’m going to fuck up Alex’s’ mom’s truck.” But he didn’t move or make a peep the whole drive.I kept checking to make sure he wasn’t dead but he was just being the sweetest little thing.I couldn’t believe how small he was.I couldn’t believe he was mine. When we got back to Lima all the usuals were around. I had moved in with a couple of guys from Michigan that were going to the same school. They were raised in the rural parts of Michigan, so they tended to be a little… rural I suppose. Same with most of the people often around my house while I lived there. Same with a part of myself as well. My place was a revolving door of mechanics, people I met around and so on. I was raised in open door policy homes and that’s just how my own places ended up. Everyone was so confused. Thoughts on Jack's entrance rang from around the room. “What's that thing!?” “What are you bringing a cat around here for!? ” “You know what my dad would say if he saw you walk through the door with that thing!?” Comments and laughs echoed throughout. “A CAT!?” One of my roommates yells out from the kitchen. “Bring it in here!” The house was full this evening. Full of food, full of smoke, full of booze and full of people. Jack on the other hand, in my hand, seemed completely unbothered. Unbothered to the point that I thought he might be deaf. Everyone loved the mustache and passed him around to take a look. Imagine a bunch of big and burly dudes passing around a kitten, smiling at his face - then of course you’ll smile too. Jack was a smash hit. He instantly became a favorite because of his chill demeanor, and his tendency to hold a chat if you so pleased. I also could not bring myself to keep him inside so he developed pretty good hunting and social skills. We would hang out in the driveway, working on cars and watching Jack hunt in the open field by our house. After showing off his fetching skills we had been developing and the fact that he brought us a few treats, including a rabbit, everyone was sold. People would always say. “This is the only cat I like!” And for the longest time, I felt the same. His fame continued to Columbus. There, he developed a habit of walking into people's houses. He also continued to get around a lot so he ended up making a lot of friends on his own. We would sit outside on the porch often, and when Jack was around, people would say, “Is that your cat!? He hung out at our house for a while. He is super cool!” Or, “He took a small walk with us and was chatty.” All great things to hear from complete strangers that you could tell had an exceptional appreciation for him. One afternoon at a bar, a friend and I were talking about Jack when a girl walked up and asked, “Are you talking about the cat with a mustache!?” We were blown away. Turns out this girl was friends with my friend's little brother, and had seen pictures of Jack. Through the rough times that Jack and I shared together, hard things needed to be done. Sometimes Jack needed to stay with friends, while I got my shit together. But Jack's ability to get along with anyone or anything made him a complete treasure to everyone around. I watched with admiration as Jack formed personal relationships with people. It was like he was everyone’s cat and just about everyone has a personal story with him. From people saying that he comforted them in sadness to people saying that he gave them good dreams to people even saying that he helped them through night terrors. There were also all the times that Jack had to eat what I was eating. He was a big cat with an iron stomach which came in handy when we were out of cat food. He ate anything that was meat and for some reason he loved sugar cookies as well. Many times we had to share five dollar footlongs and whatever else we had around. Chicken scraps and all. I’m ashamed to admit that I let him eat bone for years. I was a kid. I did not know that was bad at the time. He lived a full life ok! Don’t judge younger me! It is a fabled and established thought that animals take on the personalities of their partners and vice versa. I always kind of considered Jack to be my familiar. An extension of myself that could summon my compassions without complicating them with words. People commented that we were very similar, which I always thought was hilarious. “Sure!” I’d say. “I can see that.” My tendency to keep people around, especially people who have nowhere else to go, has been a constant. I just want everyone, especially my loved ones (of which there are several) to be safe and have something to eat. I want them to have a place to lay their head and a place for them to be loved. Maybe that energy seeped into Jack, and he understood what my mission was. He made me feel as if I did something right. For as young and irresponsible as I was when I got Jack, I wondered how I raised such a magnificent animal. An obviously caring and compassionate one. Caring and compassionate enough to deal with dogs and my roommates pet rats who used to crawl all over Jack. It wasn’t his favorite thing, but he let it happen and it was pretty shocking. He was a very surprising type of guy. There are things we do to please our egos that inherently come with having a pet. For instance, everyone thinks that they have the best pet. Everyone thinks their pet is the smartest, most loving and the most emotionally intuitive. I, of course, think all of these things of Jack, but the affirmation from others made him objectively one of the most special. We, together, were able to create homes out of dirty rentals. Homes that had good caring people around even if most of them were troubled. Jack did have his personal sense of acceptance for others. Rather they be human or other animals, he did have preferences that, like my own, weren't very narrow. We both mostly accepted others, but kept a weather eye on those who would potentially take advantage. Jack gave me a sense of accomplishment, a home and a sense of security. I could squeeze and kiss him all I wanted, but also knew he could hold his own in the street (I’ve seen his mess up a dog pretty bad). Jack and I lived in about eight to ten different houses over four or five different cities together before he finally passed away here in Cleveland, where he was born. He lived to be 13 years old and liked taking car rides, cuddling up, and eating junk food right up until the end. Jack's very last new friend that I know of was a 75-year-old Puerto Rican woman named Sonya who would eventually be my kitten Bobbi’s first new friend. At first, I wasn’t ready for a new cat. Jack was the very first pet that was just mine and to be honest I never really cared for cats too much. Chances were that I wasn’t going to get another cat like Jack and there is no way I really could. When I got Bobbi, things were really hard. It was almost like we weren’t compatible, and like it just wasn’t going to work out. I was still too attached to Jack and I think that she saw that. Perhaps I wasn’t letting her in. Perhaps she saw the part inside of me that was not ready for a new fur friend. I cried about this, but after some time we did bond. She is my new familiar and she has shown me a part of her that is similar to Jack, and yet still completely her. There was a part of me that believed that Jack belonged to an alien race. Like, they were going to take me and a select few other earth dwellers back to a super advanced civilization of cats in a galaxy far, far away! Kind of like that episode of Futurama where it turns out that Nibler is a part of an advanced race of aliens in charge of saving the universe. Nope, he died suddenly and, in the house, which pleasantly surprised me. I always figured he’d just not come back one day, or that I would get a call from a stranger. He had tags with my number on them and people actually would call me and say, “Hey! Is this Jack ? I found your cat.He’s friendly!” Why would I put my name on the cat's collar? Anyway, I thought at least I didn’t have to watch him suffer. But, I also didn’t really get to see what type of old old cat he would be. I also thought he would have perished long ago but he made it to 13! Even after he turned 10 I remember thinking “If he hasn’t died yet he will probably live forever.” I knew that wasn’t possible, but he had no signs of slowing down.After all, he had just been to the vet and they gave him a clean bill of health.Alas everything must go, which is something I accepted long before Jack's death. I’ve always thought it was a little weird to consider your pets your children. Cringe would be a better word. You get to choose your pet and your pet chooses you. They come and go and you have special ones out of the bunch that stay with you forever. You typically outlive them and any parent that has lost a child, will tell you that losing a child is nothing like losing a pet. Anthropomorphizing, to me, is inappropriate and problematic for many reasons. It takes away the animal’s agency to be an animal and to live out its own instinctual wants and needs. It also feels that this anthropomorphizing removes something special from the relationship. The fact that you are coexisting with an animal, let alone an animal that could care for itself (like a cat), is pretty incredible. I respect nature and respect that anytime I let Jack or Bobbi outside they can choose to come back or not. I respect even more that they did choose to do so, whatever the reason. Well, the reason is free food, but most of us know the bond they share with us as well. I’m a big advocate for animal agency. I believe that if you are taking on the responsibility of housing an animal it is your responsibility to appease the instinctual urges of the specific animal. If you have a herding breed of dog, you need to take it out running daily and so on. One of the things that made Jack the best cat ever was the space I gave him. Jack completely chose his own destiny everyday. I pretty much never imposed boundaries on him so he came and went as he pleased. Jack was my best friend, not my child. He decided to never leave my life, no matter where we lived. He always found his way back to me after days sometimes and that was his call. Jack is the most important part of my ability to look back. I remember people through him and times spent around him. I love you jack, always and forever. And, thank you for choosing me.