Life is full of surprises. Life is not predictable. Life is never black and white, even when it is. There are forces at work behind the scenes of our lives coordinating, canceling, shifting and shuffling us into place for our optimum benefit. These same forces laugh hysterically at our supposed plans and attempts to control our lives. Their lips get a little bit pinched when we are in the throes of trying to control the lives of others. But for the most part, we are sources of endless amusement in their perpetual game of human chess. I likely amused dozens of unseen chess players with my thought of adopting an orange cat someday. Or maybe not adopting one at all even though my old, pure white girl, Romance, needed the company. My "I'll just window shop for a cat to get warmed up" idea of this past Tuesday brought side-splitting laughter. Because one 6 month old black boy at the Angola, NY ASPCA had other ideas. He was in-cahoots with those behind-the-scene forces. Before I knew what was happening, he was in my arms, nuzzling under my neck, and me with the out-of- nowhere tears in my eyes. He decided to adopt me on the spot and I had no choice but to shift my ideas, shuffle him into a carrier and fill out the paperwork. One clever cat and one stunned woman drove home to a new life together. Cackles of glee could be heard from the empty backseat. During the ride, the clever cat told me his name was Remmington. But I could call him Remmi for short. And so began my quick-study in unpredictability and rolling with surprises, my embrace of spontaneity and giving up control. Mr. Remmington is a lover boy, although the Queen of the Castle, Miss Romance, finds him annoying so far. Maybe because he is always in motion. We both sigh with relief when he naps. Now, my cats are black and white, yet the grey areas, the unknowns, the ain't-no-way-to-have-predicted-this scenarios of my life grow larger. I'm letting go, allowing surprises and finding grey is good. Grey is happy. Grey is where the laughter lies.