He’s the perfect writing companion, really. He’s sassy and affectionate. He preserves my sense of solitude, but takes away the loneliness I sometimes feel when writing for hours. A few years ago, @alan.m.caudillo and I found him—or rather—he found us, at our local No-Kill Los Angeles shelter. He was nervous and scrawny and needed many visits to the vet. Since then, Alan’s toilet trained him. He sleeps on our feet. He rests the weight of his head on my hand when I’m typing. After I move it, he stubbornly repositions it. My hand goes numb, but it’s worth it.