In 2017 I was homeless. Thanks to a shitty wife and some shitty friends. I felt like I never wanted to be in love again. One night I saw a tiny kitten living in a tree hole, city side, with a grate over it. She wouldn't come out. I went and bought a tin of cat food. She wouldn't come out. I left the open tin and lid in the hole for her. I whispered to her. I gave her the name "Tiger" and planned to return. The next day I didn't have any money. The next I found a fiver. I returned with a tin, whispered "Tiger, tiger, tiger" and put the open tin next to my foot. I called her. She finally crept out nervously. She ate, then looked at me, and returned to her hiding place. I whispered to her as I left. This went on until she'd come out and jump in my lap and purr and rub her nose on my thigh. We were in love. I tried to find a place to live that took cats. I couldn't. I went back and somebody had dropped a tin of tuna that had one bite out of it. And she was gone.