Marlo was probably born in Yolo County California sometime in early 2011. Little is known about his first year of life or what led him to be found in a field outside of Sacramento, riddled with worms and in very ill health. He had been neutered so someone likely knew him by another name. The incarcerated Californians who worked at the Yolo County Animal Control¹ facility nursed him back to health. There he sat for weeks, watching younger kittens find homes and marching ever closer to his shelter mandated termination date.

Marlo’s fate took a dramatic turn in July 2012 when Emma, a young woman of 23 years, found herself in front of his cage. She was searching for a new companion to help fill the hole left by the loss of an early love. The attendant had to peel him out of his cage. He was tired and no other cat on earth loved sleep or did it better than Marlo. He and Emma played together for a little while. The black spots on his white fir, the largest shaped like a heart on his side, reminded her of her childhood cat Magro. His name, which the inmates had given him, also fit the names of the other cats in her family. She filled out the paperwork and came back the next day to pick him up.

He cried all the way to her house which gave her some pause - but it was only later that night when Marlo crawled under the covers to snuggle with her that they both knew they’d found someone special. No cat on earth loved cuddling more or did it better than Marlo. They would be a constant in each other’s lives for the next 13 years.

Marlo’s early years with Emma had him bouncing between Davis, Bonny Doon and Berkley while Emma finished her MFA. Having lived the privations of homelessness, Marlo was content with his new housebound life. He remained curious though - once escaping onto the second story roof through an open window at the house in Berkley.

In 2013 Marlo moved to Los Angeles with Emma where he would spend the rest of his life. For the first few years he lived with another cat friend named Little One, but they were separated when Little One’s dad moved out. The separation was hard for Marlo, he would wonder around looking for his friend. Feeling bad for him, Emma brought home a new buddy named Hugo. Hugo was also a black and white cat. It’s probably most accurate to say that Hugo and Marlo tolerated each other. Hugo was a spastic, anxious, loud cat with zero of the chill Marlo brought to daily existence. They were companions though and seeing them cuddled together was not infrequent.

I met Marlo in 2019. I am not a cat person, but it was quickly clear to me that Marlo was special. He complained little, cuddled lots and clearly supported his mama. In early 2020 as the world creaked and shuddered to a halt from COVID I moved in with Marlo, Hugo and Emma. The four of us survived the pandemic in a little secluded house in Altadena. There was no hint of the firestorm that would later engulf that place. It was a year of peaceful cuddles.

In 2021, Marlo made one more move to his final home in Frogtown with us. There he had lots of windows through which to converse with the neighborhood cats. He and Hugo would spend many nights chasing each other through the long hall from the front to the back of the house. There were more cuddles and he was a happy cat. In the fall of 2024 Marlo welcomed a human sibling. He was a little suspicious at first but he warmed to her and handled her mauling attempts at pets with grace. “Gentle!” we would scream as she grabbed tufts of fur. He never once flashed an angry glance or cautionary hiss.

In the last year of his life Marlo began losing weight. He had always had autoimmune issues with his teeth, so we were not alarmed when we had to get more teeth pulled. But an ulcer formed in his mouth that was determined to be cancerous.

The last month of his life was full of love, cuddles and as much salmon as he could eat. On January 16th, surrounded by his family, he gently let go of his grip on this world.

We humans like to think we’re superior. Our furry companions may not be able to speak to us, but they tell us who they are and make a claim to agency through their actions. Through his actions, Marlo told me that he loved his family. I once saw him defensively position himself between another cat and Hugo. That was an act of loyalty. Whenever his mamma was having a hard time he was always there for her. Those were acts of love. We loved Marlo too. He made our lives better. We will miss him.