In 2006 I was 17 years old when our house burned to the ground and we tragically lost all 4 of our beloved cats, as well as tanks full of rodents and fish. We were obviously heartbroken, and hesitant to consider getting another pet so soon. Well, my mom had a job that required her to visit animal shelters (DD career coach) and it wasn't long at all before she had fallen in love with a gangly pair of hyperactive adolescent twin brothers. They were called Frodo and Gandalf, inspired by Tolkien of course. For a year they were an absolute hurricane of love and joy. Getting into everything, pouncing on you from above, and terrorizing our old dog, they ruled the roost. And then one night Frodo woke me up and insisted that I follow him outside. He was crying in a way I've never heard before or since. Tragically, Gandalf had gotten out and was hit by a car right in front of our house. His brother wanted to make sure that I found him in time, and he passed away there in my arms. Frodo grieved for weeks, until a feral litter was abandoned in our yard. Caring for these kittens gave him some comfort, and he did it for the rest of his long beloved life, because rescues always seem to find us. He would even let them mock nurse! Our beloved Frodo, sometimes called Dodi, became ill just 2 months ago, and before we could even get a diagnosis he passed away at home on 2/21/16. Our lives will never be the same, and we are so blessed to have known a cat like him.