I went to feed the outdoor kitties: Wolfie, Albert the Orange Feral, and of course the two perfectly tame boys, Doc and Sextus, who like to eat out on the porch with the others (leaving Sisko to eat inside in solitary splendor).
Albert kept looking over his shoulder, back towards his flat in the basement.
Then out comes…. Ta Da!
A new kitty.
She is very fluffy and white, with mismatched eyes.
Fundamentally clean, with new superficial grubbiness to her plume of a tail.
She saw me and made a bee-line for the back door, shouting “Inside! I found it!” and rubbing my ankles.
So I am off to the shelter to put in a Found Cat notice, then around the neighborhood to put up signs.
It is the end of term.
1) Someone is devastated because she slipped out in the confusion, or
2) Someone dumped her.
Remembering NikiCat (“rescued” by some twerp from his home), I’m trying to remember that 1) is a real possibility.
We do not need another cat, though she is lovely and very sweet, and none of these guys seems to mind her except for Sisko, and he minds everyone.
I don’t think she is in heat.
She is now off in the house somewhere, trying to see where this “inside” connects with something she knows.