Still With Us

It was a year ago that the hungry alley cat showed up at our back door. She had moved into our back yard, living under a shed that had been occupied earlier by a skunk (removed earlier by a neighbor with a live trap). She was a very skittish calico and we named her Skitty. She took up residence with us through that long, cold winter. Bob fed her twice daily with fat-filled food to help her survive the cold. She was a voracious eater and soon took to eating three times a day. We indulged her with both wet and dry foods.

One day in early spring two neighbor dogs trapped Skitty under the shed. She panicked and moved out, but remained close enough to return for food at least twice a day. She gained weight and we thought she may be pregnant. Sure enough, in late May she returned to our back yard and following along was a tiny black and white kitten. Too late for this time, but when the kitten was old enough, we captured both and had them fixed by the No-kill Shelter.

This November makes one year that Skitty has been part of our lives. We are not sure if she captures the field mice that scamper through the gardens, but we are hopeful. I stopped feeding the birds when she first arrived, but she does stalk the ones who dare to trespass on our lawn or light on our bushes to search for the dried up berries from the summer blooms. The black and white kitten has learned to feast off of our back-porch bounty.

We are now feeding two. Perhaps they return the favor by eliminating the mice that used to sneak into our sheds and garden. Fingers crossed that they don't catch the birds. Either way, they are a part of our lives since the old calico came to our back door that bitter cold November of 2013.

Skitty has survived for five or six years (according to the vet). She may have been born into the wild, or abandoned by some thoughtless people, but either way, she and her lone kitten have entered our world and are now part of our family....our back yard family. They may be wild, but the sight of them sitting patiently on our back porch each morning as I raise the shades of the window, is somehow comforting and reassuring.

Inside and outside touch briefly on one another. Rain, snow, cold, heat. They are there.