Everyone loved Auntie Joe's cat T. She got him when he was just eight weeks old—a curious, friendly, fearless gray tiger. He was hilariously clumsy, too. When leaping onto a table, he'd usually collide headfirst with the edge and flip back onto the floor, paws clawing ineffectively at the air.   I lived next door to Auntie Joe and Uncle Pete and used to spend more time at their house than mine. Mama had just given birth to my baby brother, Albert, and I was glad to escape the seemingly endless diaper changing and wailing, as well as the flood of Mama's friends and relatives cooing over the ba