Our Cat Lychee

Love doesn’t always show up wrapped in a bow. Sometimes it shows up in your trash can. Let me explain. I quite literally found my cat in the trash.

Every night we’d take out the garbage, and every morning it looked like something had thrown a wild midnight party in there. I figured it was a mongoose… or maybe a very ambitious rat.

After about a week or so, I finally caught the culprit.

There he was—a scrappy little cat, standing in the can like he owned the place, frozen mid-bite.

When our eyes met, he looked up at me with this mix of guilt, panic, and pure longing, like he was saying,“Listen, lady, times are tough.”

He wanted nothing to do with us and ran off every time we got close. But I started leaving out food each day, and little by little, he got braver.

First, he’d eat while watching me from a safe distance. Then he started zooming by my leg for a quick bite before hiding in the bushes again. Eventually, after about a month, he decided we weren’t so bad.

That’s when Lychee officially joined the family. He was skin and bones back then—but not anymore! These days he’s fluffy, loud, bossy, and makes sure the whole house knows when it’s mealtime (again).

We love the little guy and decided to have his portrait painted in our powder room by a local artist @charlene_lofgreen. When we eventually sold our home, she added the new

owners’ beloved dog into the painting beside him.

It’s the perfect reminder that sometimes the smallest details in our homes—like that painting—often reflect the biggest parts of our hearts