Jackass has been a wonderful part of my life, since the moment I first saw him in a room just stacked with cages filled with kittens and cats. In the center of that room was a large cage filled with the cats who were chosen to be euthanized that day. It was a horrible experience. I remember seeing my little grey scruff of a kitten. He was supposed to "replace" the irreplaceable Tigi, so it's just hard to imagine why he called out to me. She was long, lean, elegant, very brightly coated, with big beautiful sexy ears and a long gorgeaus muzzle. She was regal. Jackass was a scruff -- a teeny tiny piece of scruff -- not even fluff. But he called out to me. And now I know why. We were supposed to be together. And he's been taking care of me and his family every since with diligence, grace, passion, responsibility, and dedication. He's a class act. Lately, he's been getting skinnier and skinnier -- he's at his most skinny ever. But he has energy and he keeps up his routine with skill. But he's mellowing with age. Nowadays, he'll walk into the living room when I'm sitting down and I'll hear him call to me -- so, I'll turn and glance at him and he will be sitting there and he'll put his nose forward and crinkle his eyes with the cat version of "I love you." It blows me away. I crinkle right back at him!