Aaaahhhh. As I type my big black foundling cat is ensconced in his little nest on my desk, staring at me. He showed up on our doorstep a couple years ago, wouldn’t go away even though we didn’t feed him (he was obviously a domesticated cat and I hunted for lost posters and checked with the animal shelter but no one claimed him). Then he started leaving dead birds on our doormat so, at that point, I started putting out food for him. Then my daughters wanted a box for him. Then one of them started letting him into the garage (we live in mild weather California). Then, a year ago, she let him into the house and he has taken ownership since then. My husband calls him our cat, as do our daughters. I call him “The cat” but it is me that he shadows whenever I’m home.
keyboardz R a repository for CaTz hairZ