OK, so you lived in our house for three weeks. Granted, it was not the best life. I'm sorry you had to live in a bedroom for half of your day. And I'm sorry you had to be gated in one part of the house, sometimes with us, sometimes not. But that is what was safest for you. Charlie was very angry at you - he didn't want another cat living in our house. Jack was afraid of you - because you were afraid of him.
Maybe things would have been different if you could have had the run of the house. But that just wasn't safe. So yesterday when I opened the door. You went out. Then came back in. Then went out. You were happy to be out. You disappeared into the bushes.
At night you came back. I tried to bring you upstairs, but you were just too antsy. So I let you back out and you disappeared into the night again.
And there you were this morning - waiting under our patio chair. I gave you breakfast and petted you, but you acted like a shy feral again. You came back at dusk. You let me cuddle and pet you. You even came in the house for a short visit and a handful of kibble at 10pm. But you wanted back out. And I watched you disappear into the bushes again. I saw a streetlight reflect off your silky tail once, but then you were gone.
"I love you, Bob," I said to the night. The crickets whispered back. I know you heard me.
I know you will be back tomorrow. I know we will continue to build a relationship. I don't know where it will lead. Probably one of us will have a broken heart. Maybe it was already you since you weren't the first cat in my house.
"I love you, Bob," I say again out the upstairs window as I check to see if you've changed your mind.
That will have to do for a blessing. Hopefully my love is big enough to protect you in la vida loca. Hopefully my love gets the attention of Ceiling Cat who can watch over you, too.
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