A Cat Named Mr. Balls

I didn't go looking for a cat. He found me.

Stray, battered, loud at night — Mr. Balls wasn’t exactly subtle about moving in. He hissed. He yowled. He disappeared behind the couch for the better part of a week. But somewhere between cautious head bumps and casual indifference, he decided this was home.

He watches me build. He watches me fix. Mr. Balls doesn’t care about progress. He cares about proximity. There's a lesson in there somewhere.