Cats in My Neighborhood

I walked to and from my shop in Carnegie Antiques today, something I don’t often do since I’m usually carrying too much to walk with it. I also get into trouble with my camera, and simple errands that should take 15 minutes take two hours, and sometimes—though not today—I come home with an extra kitty. Today I just came home with photos of kitties. But a cold front came through today while I was at the shop, with heavy rains and wind, and all these kitties were outside, presumably while neighbors were at work. I could at least say “hello” and take their photo. The black kitty above is actually the last one I saw, but it’s my favorite photo of the bunch.

Tuxedo Kitty

Here is the tuxedo kitty I often see at the top of my hill—I nearly ran him over one night as he chased a mouse down the middle of the street, totally unafraid of my car. I believe he lives under a porch, not sure if he’s a stray or feral someone is caring for. I saw him ease on across a street and looked into the yard where he’d headed to see that he had caught some small creature, though I never saw what it was. He is wary enough that he stopped what he was doing to keep an eye on me, annoying human that I was.

Boys on the Porch

I’ve seen these two frequently when I go to the top of the hill above my house to photograph the sunrise, the moon or other celestial events. The orange boy rolls around in the middle of the street as I set up my tripod, and the tabby runs over, rubs on my leg, and runs back to his porch. It seems to me they’d like their privacy back once I’m done with my foolishness.

As I came farther down the sidewalk, I saw there were two dark tabbies. “This is our porch,” they say, yet give me blinky looks. This third kitty, on the left, must be new; I’ve never seen him on my walks and my house is only about five houses away on the opposite side. It’s interesting how outdoor cats seem to have their territories marked out and never leave their little space, though some cats range all over the place, even spayed females, adventurous, I guess, though they worry me.

320 Cat

Then there’s 320 Cat, who I’ve never seen, and I honestly wonder if he belongs here. The porch is actually several sets of steps above the sidewalk, but I could see just the tips of his fur and knew a kitty was sleeping there, and no one appeared to be home.

He awoke when he saw me and seemed startled and I thought he’d run, but instead he stretched and came straight toward me, talking. Then I could see his tail was missing most of its fur, he had patches missing here and there and when I petted him he felt scabby, likely a flea bit dermatitis, poor guy. His face and demeanor reminded me of Mr. Sunshine though his eyes were a lovely dark green. I petted him and we talked for a while.

I was just a few houses from home, but on the opposite side of the street, and I told him I needed to leave but he dutifully followed me and this is always the hard part. I can’t take him home, though I’ll keep an eye out for him in case he really is a stray who just adopted that house. I really don’t want him to follow me because I don’t want him to cross the street. I turned and told him, “No! Go back to your porch,” then turned my back on him and did my best not to look back, trying to sense where he was. At two houses away, just before I crossed the street, I turned to see him walking back up the steps to the porch at 320. I’m not convinced he belongs there or anywhere. At the rate rentals turn over in my neighborhood, I often see those left behind and often take them in and find new homes.

I’ll talk to the kids tomorrow, they know everybody’s pets. At least I know the others are cared for.

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