“Ferdinand is the love of my life. But we’ve had a tragic courtship. He visited me often at night. We’d gaze upon each other across the wide expanse, and we both knew it was a love that couldn’t be. For we were star-crossed lovers, and he was hunted by the authorities. In royal circles, he was reviled, branded as a ‘Moggie,’ a non-pedigreed cat. It is why I’d jumped out the window that night. I could sense him out there, calling to me.” “Wait,” I said. “Are you talking about that creepy yellow cat that would come to the window when you were in heat?”
