Our youngest cat is named Mango. We found her in our parking garage in Bangladesh. We came out to drive to work one morning and we heard a non-stop meowing coming from a corner. I thought, “Oh, crap. The last thing we need is another cat.” I ignored it for a couple of days, but the stupid cat wouldn’t stop. So, we took her in and sent out an email to the school, asking if anyone wanted to adopt a cat. No one did. Mango became ours.

For the last couple of weeks, Mango has been coming into the room and sitting in front of the television like the picture above. In fact, she’s there right now. Sitting there. Staring. I don’t know what she’s staring at. Is she staring at the reflection of the window? I don’t know why she would stare at the reflection of the window when she could walk right over here and stare out the actual window. Is she asleep? It doesn’t seem like she’s asleep. She’s sitting up. Is she communicating with the dead, like in the movie Poltergeist? Is she going to turn around and look at me here in a second and say, “They’re heeeerreeee…”