It was a beaten-up old orange cat, thin, its tail bent at the end, and it was missing the very top of one ear. Living on the streets had taken its toll on her. “You’re a nice girl, aren’t you?” I said. She rose up on her back legs and I reached out to pet her. She pressed against my hands as I scratched behind her ears and she made a noise—a strange sort of noise. I bent down lower to hear. It was sort of a raspy, uneven sound, but it was unmistakable—she was trying to purr. I shook my head. All beaten up, a stray living in the back alleys of the city, and she was still happy because I was showing her a little affection, a little caring. I didn’t know if that was wonderful or sad, or both. “Maybe I have something for you,” I said. I reached deep into my pocket and pulled out a package of Chicken McNuggets. There were three nuggets left over from supper the night before. I’d been planning to have them as a bedtime snack but I’d forgotten. I pulled one out of the package.
