why i finally wrote the book

people kept asking me to write down what happened to raven. for years i didn't, because the book i kept starting in my head was just a sad book, and a sad book is not the right book to leave behind. it took me a while to figure out which one i actually wanted to write.

the version that came out is short — fifty-six pages, generously printed. it is about raven, but more than that, it is about the kinds of cats whose stories never get told because they are not, in the way these things are usually measured, special. they are everywhere. they live behind buildings and under cars. they raise litters in places that make me deeply sorry.

raven's story sits in the middle of all of that. she is one cat. she stands in for a great many. i wrote it for adults, and i wrote it for children, because i think children are often more honest about what they see and ask better questions about what we do next.

if it lands in even a few small hands, that is enough.