She appeared out of nowhere. She was clearly hungry and looking for food. She was also, as best I could tell, feral, although immaculately clean, as even the wildest of cats can be.
I offered her some of the dry food which I feed my own cats and she inhaled it. Any move towards her and she ran off the back porch to points unknown. She soon discovered, however, that there was always food on my back porch for the cats next door, who are outside days, inside nights. For reasons unknown, I named her Fiona.
Our conversations have been mostly long eye blinks, (“I love you” for cats), and my cooing to her in the most assuring tones I can offer a frightened animal. We got along in our distant way, and a few weeks ago, she ate while I read my book on the back porch, and then nodded off. I accepted this as quite the compliment.
She disappeared for a week and has since returned. This past Saturday while I baked, she seemed to enjoy the kitchen sounds and my occasional cooing to her. She fell asleep with her head leaning on the food bowl. This morning she was waiting for me. I fed her, and she has now dared to come about 4′ away from me. I sat on my haunches near one set of steps on the back porch while she sat and we exchanged long, long blinks.
I wonder where she has come from and where she goes at night. Does she actually belong to someone? I’m not really even sure if Fiona is a female, and it’s not easy to tell with her somewhat bushy tail. Looking at her face, I’m thinking to rename her Smudge for the white smudges on her nose, a name for all sexes, knowing all the while, she may well have a home somewhere in the neighborhood and another name.
Having just peeked outside my side door, I see she has fallen sound asleep on the second step, in earshot of my voice and activity. I wonder where our conversations will lead.
This is beautiful, Jeanne! She’s lucky to have found you. š
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