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I saw a little black cat scurrying away on the driveway, and I found myself thrilling with the hope that it would go to the back yard and the patio. Then I realized that I am forgetting how unrewarding a thing it can be to harbor a feral cat, not to mention the agonies of overseeing a de facto cat farm.
Although this black cat is still a kitten, it already looks too old to be conveniently made sociable. The size reminds me of Scratches, the beggar that tried to tear off the tip of my finger when I hoped to cuddle away its feralness, when it was obviously already beyond the cuddle stage and I could only be seen as a natural enemy, albeit a dupe who is good for bringing out the food.
What a wondrous stroke of luck it was in that springtime of 2008 when we caught Ash and Willy when we did, before the feralness settled in deep and good.
Although this black cat is still a kitten, it already looks too old to be conveniently made sociable. The size reminds me of Scratches, the beggar that tried to tear off the tip of my finger when I hoped to cuddle away its feralness, when it was obviously already beyond the cuddle stage and I could only be seen as a natural enemy, albeit a dupe who is good for bringing out the food.
What a wondrous stroke of luck it was in that springtime of 2008 when we caught Ash and Willy when we did, before the feralness settled in deep and good.
