There are so many people to thank, in so few pages, and this is so many years in the making. Please bear with me.

First, I have to express my gratitude to the wonderful staff at the Jean V. Naggar Literary Agency, starting with Laura Biagi. An assistant at the time, Laura fished my manuscript out of the slush and convinced her colleagues to read a book that, in her words, was about “cats, and dogs … and, uh, ants.” Jennifer Weltz has been my tireless advocate since 2012, transforming this story from a quirky idea into a real novel. At this point, I would probably take a bullet for Jennifer. Please don’t test that. I am quite serious.

Second, I must profusely thank the team at Soho Press, starting of course with Mark Doten, who took a chance on my book, and continued the long slog of reworking the story over many months. This project—and my education as a writer—owe so much to Mark’s patience, experience, and optimism. I would also like to thank Bronwen Hruska, who agreed to publish a book with talking cats, along with publicity manager Meredith Barnes and the entire staff at the press.

It was around 2002—when I returned to the United States after living abroad—that I finally began admitting to people that I had been writing on the side for several years. Since then, numerous people have agreed to read my work and offer comments. I cringe at the stuff I made them read, and I owe each of them a special thanks for their kindness: Tom Lydon, Juliette Reiss, Sarah Kitzman, Hanh Le, Susan Calvert, Charlie Boehm, Amanda Dykstra, Ron Pacchione, Carolyn Morrisroe, Mike Paylor, Daniel Asa Rose, Luke Crisafulli, Tony Schaffer, Troy Dandro, Cam Terwilliger, Mike McKee, Dan Fitzpatrick, Robin Fitzpatrick, Uppinder Mehan, Juan Carlos Pagan, Kelly Klein, Freddy Lopez, Dayne Poshusta, Sara Faye Lieber, Allison Trzop, Mike Sammaciccia, Grace Labatt, and Sam Trott. (I really tried to get everyone. If I missed your name, you never have to pay for a drink in my presence ever again.)

My MFA program at Emerson College saved me from spending years working on a dead-end autobiographical novel. For that, and many other things, I am very grateful. In particular, I have to thank other members of the Emerson Diaspora, especially Brian Hurley (who offered advice on this book in its larval stage), Jane Berentson, Ashley Wells, and Michael Hennessey, who have been such enthusiastic fellow travelers, and whose own work has inspired me for many years now. I also have to thank Aditi Rao, who had the misfortune of being assigned that autobiographical novel as a semester-long(!) book-editing project. And she was nice enough to edit another manuscript after that! I’m sorry—and yet not that sorry—to say that I got way more out of that experience than she did.

I am incredibly lucky to have such a supportive, open-minded, strange, and hilarious family, consisting of my brother, Nick; my father, Big Nick; and my mom, Loretta (Lori). When I told each of them that I had finally gotten a book deal, and that the protagonist was a cat, they all said the same thing: “Sebastian?” And when I said that the cat had a friend who was a dog, they each said, “Sheba?” It’s hard to thank the people to whom you owe everything. So to them, and to my extended family—including Sheba’s owners, the Snyders, as well as my adopted families in Grenada, Boston, and New York—I’ll say this: please know how grateful I am for all the love and humor and support you’ve shown me over the years. And if I act otherwise, remind me for the millionth time that life is too short. That usually puts things in perspective.