It all started when we (my husband and daughter) found ourselves living on a university farm more than twenty years ago. It seems the farm came with its own horde of barn cats ... over 20 to be precise. I was in cat heaven! The whole family came to really love those cats. I always carried a huge bag of cat chow in the trunk of my Corolla to feed them when I came home from work. Time went by and of course, kittens were born. We adopted an adorable tuxedo cat and named him Harry. My daughter, Molly, wanted to name him Buttons, but we convinced her he would rather be named Harry; although she thought we meant Hairy. Harry was absolutely the best cat there ever was and we were blessed to have him as part of our family for 13 years.
An accident left him with only one good eye but he was still an extremely handsome cat. He traveled with us from the university farm to the city when my husband and I went to work for another midwest university. He was allowed outside when I did yard work and whenever he heard me yell "get in your yard" would dash back in the yard and look at me like "I'm so cute when I listen to you, aren't I."