Viewing post #801946 by lovemyhouse

I was sorta sucked into it, Philip. His mama was semi-tame and he was born in a cage along side the house next door about seven(?) years back; he is the only one of the litter still alive. So he knew this area as home and always made himself quite at home in my flower beds. I used to chase him off, not the least reason being he liked/likes to stroll back and forth in front of my door to aggravate the dogs. But, when these neighbors were moving, they presented me with a bag of food, swore they would come get him when they were settled, and, in a devious ploy to ensure I would say yes, they oh-so-casually offered me their small greenhouse. One morning a few weeks later, I found a bag of cat food hanging from my mailbox, but--as I knew from the initial, "We'll come back"--haven't seen hide nor hair of them since. So he is mine, now. Once you start feeding, it becomes an ongoing responsibility, I think. Used to have cats, then developed an allergy to them in my 20s. This fella means I get to sort of have a cat around without having gravelly eyes and a stuffy nose to go with it.