"A year ago, it was a Sunday morning, it was pouring rain, mid-fall, and I walked out of my house and found half-a-pound of jet-black, dead kitten in my front yard, soaking wet. I picked it up, and when I picked him up, I realized that he was just barely alive, so I stuck him in my pocket to keep him warm. Now his name is Pockets, and in any kind of bag is his safety zone. He goes longboarding with me, walks, bicycling, goes everywhere with me."
Watch out folks; he's got a camera...