Moggy (formerly Milky Whey) got home a friend today.
And here’s one of Moggy. I know she’s not my pet but she has a free will and I can’t really prevent her from walking in and rolling about on the rug, or snoozing on it 🙂
When I returned home tonight, i could see the shadows on my doormat come to life from a distance. Milky Whey stretched herself the way only cats can, her heavy paws the only bits of white in her sleek, black fur. She pretended like she was leaving and I coaxed her, talking cat (gibberish), to stay for a bit. She allowed me to scratch her head and so happy was I to see her again, I tweaked her sweet little ears too. She rewarded me with some deep purring and circled my legs while I opened the door. She would only come in after I turned on the lights, and even then hesitatingly. She bumped into my boots and ran out in a funny fat cat dash when she knocked them over. And then back in again when i called her. She remembered her little plate all right, her eyes resembling round saucers at the sight of the milk can. Two servings later she sat aloof outside the door, her green eyes reflecting light, demanding to be left alone.
I came home on Christmas eve and in the darkness I could make out the outline of what I thought was a package on my doorstep. Moving closer, I saw that the package had green eyes and was indeed a kitty. I spoke to it but it didn’t budge from my mat. It did get startled when I pushed open the door and to pacify it, I offered a small plate of milk which I later refilled. It accepted a pat, stretched and went away.
A few days later, just as I was watching Bicycle Thieves (a rather heartwarming though sad, old Italian movie), I heard little bells outside my door. Could it be my feline friend? It was. Not sure what she was exactly doing but it seemed like she was jumping against the wall. I opened the door and she walked in sweetly to the kitchenette where I heated some milk for her. At the sight of her saucer she meowed in a long, sweet tone. What is it about large black and white cats, who look like masked bandits, fur the colour of the night, eyes like glittering emeralds, and ultra-sweet voices. We had a stray cat we used to know and love once, Scruffle Cake we called her, who matched this description and had the voice of an opera singer. Anyway, this kitty lapped up her milk, I refilled it for her. She accepted some pats and scratches. And then it struck me, what if this is someone’s pet. I closed the door and didn’t go back to check if she’s around. I resolved not to feed her again – it’s quite unlikely that the owner would approve.
Just as I was writing this, I heard little bells outside my door. I opened it to find her sitting neatly, facing me, tail curled around her. Walked right in. And I couldn’t help heating some milk for her again. She meowed, walked about my apartment, investigated the radio. I know feeding her is wrong but the thought keeps crossing my mind, what if she’s abandoned or just looking for some affection 😦 I know I’m going to be in trouble over this.