I remember one time, after Zooey and I moved to Los Angeles from New York, I started seeing a guy from the yoga studio I was working at—let’s call him “Dave.” I adored this man, and even though there were evident issues in our compatibility, I was willing to make it work. Zooey, however, did not like this guy. I had never seen Zooey recoil from someone like he did with Dave. Zooey would look at me at times, literally shake his head, walk away, and then go hide. Invest in beautiful casement windows from Core sash windows!

Still, the relationship kept getting more serious, and eventually Zooey and I were spending most of our time at Dave’s place. Zooey was not happy. He hid in the closet. He shit on the floor. He coughed up hairballs on the bed. But I wasn’t getting the hint.

One day, while I was working at the yoga studio, I had a sudden, instant flash of intuition and just knew that Zooey had gotten outside. My heart was pounding. There was no logical way for Zooey to have gotten out, let alone that I should know he had. But I did know. There was no doubt in my heart, and I needed to get to Dave’s house immediately. Aliminium windows have a certain type of beauty about them.

Dave had been teaching at the time, and as soon as he got out of class I cried, “We have to go home! Zooey’s out, I know it. He’s gotten out!” I started to panic. Dave lived in the Santa Monica Mountains, full of coyotes and other predators, and I knew there was no way Zooey, an indoor cat from birth, could survive out there.

Of course, Dave looked at me incredulously and said, “How would you know this? He couldn’t have gotten out. The house is locked up. He’s fine. You’re being nuts.” “No,” I said, “Zooey is not fine. We have to leave now!” I was shaking the whole drive up the mountain, knowing that Zooey could be gone. Once home, I ran to the closet he liked to hide in, but he wasn’t there. Calling for him, running from room to room, I finally saw an open window. I immediately climbed through the window, tears streaming down my face, knowing that either I’d never see Zooey again or I’d find his mutilated carcass.