That I’ve been wishing for a cat is no secret. Evidently the cats were listening too. I seem to have been adopted by a familiar feline. There is a small pure grey female, just the color of grey velvet, who has taken to sitting outside one or the other of the glass doors into the house and mewing. She has a small voice, but when I went out to her this evening she was quite talkative. She was also endlessly affectionate, begging to be petted, walking up into my lap as I sat on the step. She did not want me to hold her; she just wanted to curl up there and be stroked. And she purred, endlessly and quite audibly. I’ve never heard a purr like it; it has a little chirpy sound in it. She does not seem to want to come into the house, which is just as well because I’m not sure I’d have the strength of will to put her out again.
Our son sat by the door watching her for half an hour or more, explaining to her very earnestly that we couldn’t bring her inside because the owner’s rule was that we couldn’t have pets in the house. I thought that was what kept her, but he went to bed and she didn’t wander off. She’s still out there now, by the door into the living room, mewing at me to come back and pet her some more.
I’m considering opening the shed a bit so that she has a place to take shelter and putting out food for her. She’s already an outdoor cat; it wouldn’t be an adjustment for her, at least. But I’ve not named her. If I do, then she’ll be mine. We’ll go to the vet and make sure kittens aren’t next on the agenda, and then I’ll do the best I can under the limitations I have. I’m going back down to Indianapolis to officiate at a friend’s wedding. When I get back, on Sunday evening, will be time enough for decisions on a velvet grey cat.
Update: The cat was still here in the morning, so determined to get in that she climbed the screen door, thus telling me that if I ever make her an inside cat she’ll have to have her weaponry modified. Our son tried to pet her, but she wanted nothing to do with him. (So much for getting a pet for his sake.) Me, on the other hand, she came right up to, putting her head under my hand for scritching. Before I leave for Indy, I’ll be acquiring cat food, a pair of bowls sturdy enough to stand up to being outside, and possibly the smallest size dog-gloo type doghouse. If she can’t come in to me, I can go out to her. Our son has named her Sophia.