It’s tough looking after a feral cat. And by that I mean beyond making sure he always has enough food and fresh water, and de-worming him at the end of summer, there’s not much more you can do for a cat that has never been touched. He will run in terror if you approach him or even make too loud a noise. I call him Little Fee. (He appeared in Summer 2009, and I initially thought he was a female, and named him Fiona.)
I continue to be amazed at how this little guy – so small, he must have been the runt of his litter – tugs at my heartstrings. He will run at the drop of a hat, but lately he has been a little more brave. He seems to know that he has some small sense of entitlement on my back porch. If he is already eating at the back door, he will continue eating his fill and ignore the cat from next door that normally threatens and chases him away. He even dares to look him in the eye, then continue eating.
“She loves me,” I imagine him saying. “I belong here, too.”
But once done, he slinks away submissively in slow motion so as not to challenge the next door cat who also spends time with me and on my porch.
Imagine my surprise when I went into the kitchen for coffee late this morning and saw none other than Little Fee sound asleep on one of the back porch chairs, (see photo above), looking for all the world like he lived here and was just napping. I say surprise because I have never once seen this cat sound asleep on a chair on my porch – he seemingly just discovered it as an actual possibility. I took the photo through the closed back door and storm screen. If I’d opened it, the moment would have been lost, and since my intention is not for a gallery shot so much as a moment, it’s as unfocused and grainy as it is.
Little Fee … who would think one could be so in love with a creature that cannot – will not – be touched?
Still A Dreamer 