Cage 42 Oscar: The Cat Who Turned My Apartment Into a Trial

he was still a cat.

Because trauma doesn’t make you a statue. It makes you a system constantly scanning for exits.

I crouched down, careful not to invade his space, and I pressed my fingertips lightly against the worn strip.

It should’ve been nothing. A cheap piece of rubber.

But suddenly it felt like the fault line where my quiet, private lesson about continue reading …