Stray Cat

There’s a kitty in the neighborhood that doesn’t seem to have a home. I may have mentioned her before. She’s dark with a little bit of gold in her fur. Half of her tail is missing. She’s skittish of people, but she thinks that Seamus, our handsome Maine coon, is just fine. Over the summer and fall she’s found places to sleep around the house–under the trees in the backyard, nestled in the wood chips by the house, tucked in here or there in the garden. She’s welcome (I think all the kitties seem to know that about me.) I’ve been feeding her and I think my next-door neighbors love her and feed her, too.

When the days were really cold there for a bit, she’d look at me from several feet away on the porch as I opened the door to let Seamus in. The warmth, I could tell, caught her interest. Seamus coming inside piqued her curiosity. But she stays resolutely outside, running from me if I approach.

I empathize with this kitty. Something hurt her. She’s scared. Solitude seems to suit her, most of the time. Half socialized and half feral–I get you kitty. And yet, she sleeps on my porch often. The bowl of kibble is empty by morning.

Time, patience, and love work wonders. Maybe they’ll work for her. Maybe they’ll work for me.

[Virtual tip jar: https://venmo.com/u/Rebecca-Lubbers-1]