At last week’s Bass Canyon Campout, Noah and Natalie brought…

Camp Cats.

Ming and Bean.

One of these pictures shows me holding Ming—who was the most adventurous of the two.

She wandered from one end of camp to the other, day and night, navigating dogs, music, fire, and humans with ease.

But…

She always came back to her trailer.

To her people.

In a swirl of masculine containment, we obviously filled the space with our own human feminine expression—music, dancing, storytelling.

But inside that swirl was something quieter.

The soft, steady presence of animals—cats and dogs—who felt safe enough to roam free.

There was something about her trust that moved me.

Her wildness.

Her return.

Maybe it’s because I’ve always loved cats.

Or maybe it’s because I saw something in that moment I want to be:

A man who protects what he loves.

A man who is a place to come home to.

Home. It's not necessarily a place, as much as it's an energy of safety and love.

Damn that cat got me. I miss her already.