Today I’m celebrating my Frankie Angel’s first re-birthday. One year ago today, his soon-to-be foster mom would get a text that he survived a surgery he was not expected to live through and was ready for life. Three days earlier, he’d been found emaciated, anemic from fleas, with two large abscesses on his chest from wounds that hadn’t healed. The “nine lives” joke about cats really is based in truth.
I was lucky enough to bring him home a few months ago. He may only have eight lives left, but this guy has a zest for it that rivals yours. His personality reminds me that when life randomly selects you for a beat down, you can come back more optimistic than ever. (And also that indoor plumbing is a fascinating miracle that shouldn’t be taken for granted, but mostly the first thing I said.) Happy Rebirthday, Frank. (Yes, I got him presents. Plural. You only turn one on your eighth life once. #YOTOOYELO)
