the Life and Times of Miss Madison

I have a cat named Henry--I didn't name him, but my sister did. You see, what happened was  a dog mauled his and his brother's mother when they were very young--too young to be on their own and they they were born feral. My father took them and cared for them, but when they reached a certain age, they chose who they want. My mother, sister and I each named a kitten. It turned out that the kittens we named didn't pick us.My first cat didn't live long but he was precious to me and this Monday will mark nine years since a reckless driver ran him over--well, I'm not sure the driver was reckless, but it sure was odd for someone to drive down our residential street at 6 in he morning. Henry selected me shortly after his brother did so I owned two cats. A blessing, huh? Not really. Henry had problems--he had a weak mind and the demonic spirits that had attached themselves to my father easily swayed Henry to unacceptable behaviors. In short the first three years was a nig