The cat on my mat

“Jim is not a cat person” is a gross understatement.

“Jim would like to run over the stray neighborhood cats with his car” is probably more accurate.

Therefore, you can imagine Jim’s dismay that Seth has formed a healthy attachment – shall we even say deep love? – for an orange tabby that (according to our neighbor Ashley) lives in the viaduct (read, sewer) that empties out at the edge of our property.

(Sadly, we’ve determined that this is not Mandie’s dear Ralph, who detoured to Tennessee via Wisconsin in a futile attempt to find Texas.)

I often find the friendly feline gazing into the kitchen.

Sometimes, she gets brave and starts to beg to be let in.

But it is only recently, as our weather has taken a much-welcomed turn towards warmth, that Seth has been able to adequately show just how his love for the cat has grown.

Upon spotting Bella, as Seth has insisted she be called, we ventured out for a closer look and a brief conversation.

According to Seth, Bella has confessed to him that she is searching for her mommy, and she is very sad, and needs to live in our house and eat our baby food until she is reunited with her mother.

Ahem.  If you say so, buddy.  
 
Ugh.  I know I shouldn’t really let Seth play with this cat – we don’t know anything about it, other than she seems to love people, has a collar (but no tags), and now responds to the name Bella – but he loves her and now asks after her whereabouts each morning.

So, despite that we aren’t cat people (and, I guess, despite the fact that she may well indeed be a “sewer cat”)….it appears we have a pseudo pet for the time being.

Bella, welcome to the family.

Or at least the backyard.