I wasn't looking for a cat when I stopped at a motel in Calera, Alabama.
Apparently, Hitch was looking for me.
While I was carrying my things from the car to my room, this little guy decided my room looked like a perfectly reasonable place to spend the night. The next morning, I let him out and continued on to Birmingham.
But I couldn't stop thinking about him.
So I turned around and drove the 30 miles back to Calera.
The motel manager told me Hitch had appeared about a week earlier. If someone didn't take him, he would likely end up at the pound.
Well... that wasn't happening.
I bought a cat carrier across the street, packed him up, and Hitch continued across the country with me.
That was six years ago.
These days, Hitch is very much at home. He has his favorite places to lounge, his own opinions about how things should be done, and apparently no memory whatsoever of being a stray cat who wandered into a motel room in Alabama.
His name is Hitch because he hitchhiked a ride into my life.
And somewhere between Calera and wherever I was headed next, a stray cat became family.
Sometimes the best things we find while wandering aren't places at all.