On my walk this morning, I bumped into a man I occasionally see while perambulating around the ‘hood. He walks his enormous, obviously well-loved bushy white dog named Sugar. As I stopped to pet Sugar, she nuzzled her huge muzzle into my hand while I scratched her behind her ears.

“And this is my cat, Pontiac Jack,” says the nice man. Next to Sugar, I see a well fed tortoiseshell. “He likes to walk with us.”

A cat who goes on walks? Yes, it’s true.  Pontiac Jack takes a walk with Sugar and the nice man every day.

A cat like Pontiac Jack is one of many reasons why I live in Berkeley.