There’s an important little fella in my life who I have, disgracefully, not written about. His name is Charlie. Also sometimes known as Charles.

Charlie has a special story. A story involving karma.

When he was a kitten, he was living in a shelter and as my mom had been wanting another little orange tabby for a few years without ever getting one, I made it my mission to find her second ginger-haired little man.

When I was looking to find my mom the perfect little orange tabby for her, I recruited my best friend. We would leave school and head to the local shelters together looking to meet the newest addition to the family. We were always very specific because I knew exactly what my mom wanted. She didn't want a peach-colored tabby and she didn’t want a girl. She wanted a very handsome, bright orange, male, tabby.

And I found him!

The next job of this mission was convincing my mom to get her kitten behind my dad’s back. What can I say, I’m a negative influence.

I had found her an orange tabby a couple times earlier in the year but she always turned them down because my dad didn’t want another cat. At the time, I already had two mini black panthers and for him, that was more than enough. If my dad had it his way, we wouldn’t have cats.

When I showed my mom Charlie's pet profile on the shelter’s website, she agreed to meet him. They had some other orange kittens as well, so she agreed to meet them too because we needed the personalities to match. The first two orange kittens we looked at were so precious. They were sweet and loving, but frankly a little shy. When I saw that there was no real connection between my mom and those first few kittens, I went to the front desk and asked to meet the orange tabby they had uncreatively named Orange.

When we walked into the second cat enclosure, atop a cat tree sat the majestic little tiger who has since been renamed, Charlie. My mom and I could see him through the door and she burst into tears at first sight. He was going to be her kitten!

When we brought him home, we quickly learned all of his little quirks such as his fondness for playing with anything that he can chase and pouncing on his sister. We also learned that he doesn’t listen to anyone but me. My parents can call him, tell him no, or get down, and he just looks at them and looks away. If I call him from another level in my home, he comes running.

When we got Charlie, he was intended to be my mothers' cat. When I caught a feral kitten and took her home three years ago and named her Pride, she was intended to be mine. But these two cats have chosen their own person. Pride chose my mom, and Charlie chose me.

Here’s to Karma for giving me a little tiger with the biggest personality!