that are not really cats cats.
I love cats and would love to have another one but I fear our dog (Betty) would kill it. We did have Carl (who died last May) but they came together as puppy and kitten and loved each other. Any other cat Betty sees she wants to kill.
But I have foster cats. They seem drawn to our house.
This is Casey. She ran away from home to come and live with me about two years ago. Her owners (who live two doors down) bought a new dog and it hounded her so terribly that she ran away and came here. And its funny that when her old owner walks past the house and sees her, he doesn't even stop and giver her a pat, doesn't even say – how you doin' pussy cat.
Like one of babys new feline friends she loves to rub around on hard bumpy concrete, smooching, rolling and dribbling.
And clean. She's like a little feral. Always itchy and always has little bumps and sores on her. I do buy her treatments and she's much better during winter, but as soon as she sees me coming with a tube of treatment she runs away and I don't see her for a day.
And she loves to follow the sun throughout the day. Starting on the roof of the car in the morning, moving across the yard through the day, up against the fence, until it gets to this point where she can go no further. That looks comfy. She was actually sleeping.
So she's like mine, but she's not really mine. Vinnie isn't mine either. But you'd think he was. He likes to bash little girl cats up. He became so nasty to the cat he lives with that he was put on female hormones to make him more gentle. I think they have made him fat. But he is very sweet really, to me anyway. He looks like he's just spied someone to go and smack around a bit. Probably Sabrina, the cat across the road. He tracks her movements all morning. The lady who owns Sabrina came across to complain to me once about Vinnie fighting her all the time. Was good to be able to say – he's not mine.
Then there is Charlie (of the big fur who won't look at me) who visits daily and I've noticed a new tortoise shell under the bush in the front yard a few times. No idea where she lives but she won't talk to us yet. So when people visit they often say – oh, you have four cats, as if I'm a freak, when I actually have none. I am catless Cat.