We had cats. Lots of cats. One time I counted something like 33 on our farm in Kansas, including all the kittens. There was this one female cat that I really didn’t get to know too well as I had already moved away from home by the time she came to choose my family as hers. But her story is worth telling. If I get some of it wrong maybe my brother can correct me.

My parents and brother had moved to an austere and remote farm in South Dakota, on the open plains and severely exposed to the north winds. There was a small creek that ran about a half mile from their house which served as a minor windbreak and a haven for wildlife. That was the closest anything to the farm. Of course there were lots of critters around, especially because we raised racing greyhounds.

If you know anything about greyhounds, you know they are designed to be lethal, especially to little creatures like cats. Greyhounds are athletes, they eat a lot of red meat, high in protein. So, on the farm there is a kitchen where the food is prepared for the dogs. On this farm it happened to be conveniently located right next to the kennel where the dogs in training resided.

As was explained to me, one particularly cold winter (in South Dakota!) this little cat just appeared, in the kitchen…on the middle of a farm load of sight hounds designed to eat her. She fed on frozen beef for weeks and stayed in the kitchen where it was warm. She eventually moved to the house and lived with my family.

There are several remarkable things about this little cat, not the least of which was her survival in the harsh Dakota winter, outside, miles from anywhere and her eventual refuge on a greyhound farm of all places. But what impressed me about her the most, when I met her, was the warmth of her little heart. She was so friendly and loving you couldn’t find a better companion. She told her stories through the depth of her eyes. And, even in the middle of a blistering Alabama summer sun, she would bask in a windowsill soaking up as much as she could. She seemed to never want to be cold again.

That was Libido.