I was standing outside my photo studio and heard a noise from above, and a cat fell into my arms. He had fallen off a seven-story roof of an office building fighting every inch of the way down.

The blood from his paws stained my shirt and I took care of him until his owners saw him and reclaimed him.

He was so loyal to me, at my feet every minute of the day, that it convinced me to to own my own cats.

I found two kittens from a litter of Manx and took them in. But, one of the fraternal twins was not long for the world. He was the most ‘spritely’ spirit . . . one of those rare cats who loved to play fetch. He died in my arms of kidney failure.

I am 6’6″ and 300 lbs, but the tears came like a broken faucet.

To this day, I take extraordinary care of his brother, Bubbah . . . and a photo of Boo-Boo hangs framed on the wall in my studio.

Christ came upon the mourners crying for Lazarus, but Jesus cried not for Lazarus, but the grieving friends and family. There is a lesson there.

Leonard from NM