
Bowie, a beautiful white cat with one green, one blue eye, and a slight sneer, showed up at my house one morning. As stray cats/dogs/birds/possums/ponies are wont to do.
We had never seen him in the neighborhood before. No collar. He appeared hungry, so we gave him breakfast. He ate greedily, with our ginger Prince Harry glaring at him through the window.
Bowie came back that night for dinner.
Soon, he had a routine. Breakfast, then lounging in the back garden. Apparently taking a neighborhood stroll at lunch before returning in the afternoon to antagonize Prince Harry through the window. Dinner. Then, bedtime on the screened-in porch. In the winter, we put out warm blankets for him to snuggle into.
This continued for several years. Normally I keep my cats indoors, but I already shared my house with three cats, two dogs, and a furry, somewhat humanoid creature that made a lot of noise. Since Bowie seemed perfectly capable of looking after himself, and rarely left the back yard except for his lunchtime stroll, this situation worked well for both of us.
Several years later, we learned this was actually my neighbor’s cat, who had given him the unimaginative and unsuitable name of “George.” Two years before, the family had adopted a dog and “George” had NOT been amused. So he stalked out, returning only for lunch everyday. That was why no “Lost Cat” signs were ever posted.
Oopsie.





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