My neighbor’s kitty died the other day. She was allowed to roam, and cats who go outdoors do tend to have shorter lifetimes, and we do have plenty of coyotes and cars around here, but this one just succumbed to a medical condition and bad luck. She was a very nice kitty that I would have preferred to admire posing on comfy furniture and sunny windowsills, but she really preferred to be in my garden, hunting. I don’t know how successful she was at hunting but I do know she had more than a passing interest. A series of her collars appeared over the years in her favorite stalking locations. She learned quickly to skedaddle if I showed up, especially if I was near a water hose, but she also knew I wasn’t around most of the time. Especially during springtime, when my birds are trying to make more of themselves, her presence was a splinter in my heart.

So although I felt bad for my neighbor, I was not going to miss seeing that or any other cat in my garden.

Well, that lasted a whole four days. Then one morning my crows lost their minds, worse than usual. I looked out. A small black cat was on my patio, getting the what-for from a group of pointy-faced birds. Did my Tater cat get out? Or did my neighbor’s cat get reincarnated that quickly? I ran out like an avenging angel. Charged the offending feline and clapped my hands and yelled. And that cat blinked at me and curled around my ankles. I picked her up and gently lobbed her into the alley. She shot right back to my ankles in seconds, purring like mad. That was one button-headed boomerang of a kitten. Well, shit. Let’s have a look at that tag on her collar.

“Lavender” had a phone number. Lavender followed me up the steps and tried to squirt herself into my house while I texted her mommy. I wondered if Lavender were lost, and might have pointedly mentioned in my text something about keeping my own cat indoors. Lavender’s mommy was actually apologetic rather than offended—you never know—and said she’d be right by to pick her up. When she did, Lavender was still on my porch looking for all the world like Cleopatra reclining.

Darn cat was over three blocks away from her home. That is a lot of territory for a city cat. That there cat is adventurous. And friendly. I liked Lavender a lot, and thought she would have looked a whole lot better on an indoor windowsill.

The next day my crows put out the word that she was back. Back and lying down in my flowerbox. I booted her a little more firmly. The geranium is crushed but the lantana will probably survive. She was all “Hey! Remember me from yesterday? Hi! Hi! Hi!” This is a kitty with healthy self-esteem. Next thing I knew, according to the crows, she had climbed fifteen feet up a lilac and was about to hop onto the roof of our rental. I planned to let her stay there in prime crow-bill stabbing splendor and then, maybe, after a while, call her mommy.

She got back down on her own, though, and the crows were of the opinion she had not gone home in disgrace. Sure enough, she was on the fence, although not about going home—she really likes it here. She was on the fence singing with the crows, and I honestly believe she wanted to play with them. Or with anybody. She doesn’t know when she’s not wanted because she could not imagine such a thing.

That’s when I realized: she is not my neighbor’s cat reincarnated. She is Tater. And Tater’s not even done yet. That’s how adventurous she is—she shows up early for her own reincarnation! I should have known Tater had that much juice. When we brought Tater home—“keep your kitty in one room at first, she will be shy and cautious about her surroundings”—she blasted out of the carrier at warp speed and left cheek fuzz on every corner of our house, three floors’-worth, within five minutes, utterly delighted with every little thing. She couldn’t have been tickleder. And even now, at something north of eighteen years old, she bounces to the front door if anyone knocks. Tater doesn’t hold back.

You get a spirit like that, you’re going to train up your replacement self before you leave, because you know the world cannot survive a moment without you.