I’ve taken very few selfies, and I rarely think about them. I like regular photos better.

But Zip has changed my life.

He and I meet by the chairs near the pasture when the sun is out and it’s relatively warm.

I sit in the Amish-made Adirondack chair, and he comes behind the chair and hops onto my shoulder. He loves being scratched under the chin and along his back; he purrs softly and sometimes goes to sleep.

After a minute or two, he curls around and climbs on my shoulder; that is our signal to be silent and take in the world around us. There is always something to see. Today, a female deer stood up in a pasture a quarter of a mile away.

Afterward, I feed him dinner at times.

This is my new quiet hour. Cats are a new and powerful experience for me.

Zip snuggles onto my shoulder, and we look at the world together. Zip takes note of every bird flying over and every movement on the ground or in the trees. We both are very content to sit there and do nothing together. It’s good for me and, hopefully, for him.

Zip is warm and has soft fur. Being with him is calming and meaningful, and I look forward to doing it every single day. I love the sound of his sleeping, and the times he goes right on my shoulder—another new experience.

Sometimes, if he spots something, he leaps off my shoulder and goes after it. Sometimes he comes back, sometimes not; it’s his call.

Today was mainly sunny and warm, so we spent at least 90 minutes together. I love our afternoon meetings. It seemed to warrant a selfie.