About 17 years go I adopted two cats. I’m not sure what I was thinking. I wasn’t particularly a cat person, I wasn’t even a pet person. I was mostly an irresponsible person. But a fellow photographer’s cat had kittens and so I picked out two. Two brothers. I’m not sure why I picked those two. Maybe it was because I’m a big black and white guy and the two boys were mostly shades of grey (and sepia). I didn’t realize it at the time but they would become the constants in my life. My personal life would change, my professional life would change. I would change addresses (several times) and even cities. But they were always there, they would even come running to the door when i came home at whatever hour. I got two cats because I figured they would keep each other company (one of the few responsible things I did) when I wasn’t home. Not too infrequently I would work a very long day and I was somewhat comforted knowing that they had each other. A vet commented that they would be buddies for a long time. And they were, to each other and to me. Eugene, the long-haired grey cat with the regal white mane had to be put down yesterday. We’re all going to miss him.