As you can see I haven't continued with my "What if?" list. It seems constantly talking about every little thing that could possibly go wrong was bringing me down and contributing to my depressed mood a few months ago. I am all for being prepared for the worst case scenarios but at the same time I don't want to dwell on them.
And while the subject of babies has not graced this blog in a while, the topic is never far from my mind. Not a day goes by when I don't think about my plans and the mountains I must climb before I can put them in motion.
Also, I seem to be in a mourning-the-dream phase again. These feelings come and go but with a friend getting engaged a couple days ago, reading a book with a seriously crush-worthy character, and the holidays just around the corner, the dream of finding a boyfriend has been worse than ever lately. Almost bad enough to make me want to get back on dating websites...not that I have time right now.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Sunday, December 4, 2011
The Story Continues
I wanted the previous post to be all about Miss Priss since it was a tribute to her, but there is another part to the story. The part of Ghost Kitty.
No, I'm not talking about Miss Priss come back from the grave, this cat is very much alive.
"He" showed up a few days after Miss Priss. (I say "he" because we're only guessing on the gender)
A tiny kitten stealing her leftovers. Sometimes she didn't care, sometimes she would chase him. When scared he would slip under our freight door, left partially open in the summertime, and hide in the store's basement. Sometimes we would catch a flash of white when we went to the basement and we knew he was down there. But his using the floor as a litterbox put an end to us keeping the freight door open.
Still, he kept coming back for leftovers, scavenging what he could and never letting anyone get too close.
J told me one time that he tried to follow the kitten as it ran to the neighboring building but by the time J got around the freight ramp the cat had disappeared.
A few days later the little kitten was again on the other side of the freight ramp. I happened to be leaving work and J was outside with me. J kept the kitten's attention on him while I crept slowly around the ramp. But before I could get to the other side the kitten noticed me and took off running. This time, though, I was close enough to see him go up the stairs of the building next door. So J and I followed him up the stairs to the roof area where the two buildings are joined, but we could see no sign of him. We looked in every possible hiding spot while keeping an eye on the stairs which were the only means of egress. No luck, it was as though he had disappeared entirely. Thus earning him the nickname of Ghost Kitty.
But when we exited the roof and were back on ground level there was his little kitten face peeking at us from the top of the stairs. Somehow, somewhere he was hiding on the roof.
The next time we were presented with a chance to follow him we did, even Miss Priss came searching with us this time and delighted in checking out the roof. And this time J solved the mystery. You see, there's a thin branch of tree that extends near to the roof from the front of our building. After scouring the entire roof J was sure that Ghost Kitty had climbed into the tree so we exited the roof and went around the front of the building and there was the tiny kitten huddled high up in the tree watching us warily.
I didn't see much of Ghost Kitty after that but J assured me he was still around, though wary as ever. And when Miss Priss died and there were no longer cat food cans outside to scavenge I thought we had seen the last of him, until one day in early November J saw him on the back porch looking for food. J put a can out and the next day it was licked clean, so he put another can out. It too was emptied. Pretty soon Ghost Kitty started to show up for regular evening feedings. And not long after J cut a hole in a large cardboard box, filled it with padding, put some reinforcement on the outside and set it up under the porch just in case Ghost Kitty needed it. And we think he uses it sometimes to get out of the cold and while he's waiting for food.
Now, with his regular feedings he has grown from a kitten to a full-grown cat, though he's not more than a year old. He even meows at us now when he's hungry in short high-pitched bursts all stringed together. But he is not tame. He runs away whenever we go to put the food out. No one can get closer than six feet before he runs away, though we are all very calm around him and don't make any sudden moves in his direction. Still he remains wary and unsure, almost feral. He is nowhere close to being the store kitty that Miss Priss was, but I find myself looking forward to closing time even more now so I can peek at him from behind the window.
And I wouldn't be surprised if "he" showed up one day with kittens in tow.
I wish I could get better pictures of him, but these were taken through a window with the porch light as the only source of light. Plus my camera is old and gets very grainy when I have to zoom.
No, I'm not talking about Miss Priss come back from the grave, this cat is very much alive.
"He" showed up a few days after Miss Priss. (I say "he" because we're only guessing on the gender)
A tiny kitten stealing her leftovers. Sometimes she didn't care, sometimes she would chase him. When scared he would slip under our freight door, left partially open in the summertime, and hide in the store's basement. Sometimes we would catch a flash of white when we went to the basement and we knew he was down there. But his using the floor as a litterbox put an end to us keeping the freight door open.
Still, he kept coming back for leftovers, scavenging what he could and never letting anyone get too close.
J told me one time that he tried to follow the kitten as it ran to the neighboring building but by the time J got around the freight ramp the cat had disappeared.
A few days later the little kitten was again on the other side of the freight ramp. I happened to be leaving work and J was outside with me. J kept the kitten's attention on him while I crept slowly around the ramp. But before I could get to the other side the kitten noticed me and took off running. This time, though, I was close enough to see him go up the stairs of the building next door. So J and I followed him up the stairs to the roof area where the two buildings are joined, but we could see no sign of him. We looked in every possible hiding spot while keeping an eye on the stairs which were the only means of egress. No luck, it was as though he had disappeared entirely. Thus earning him the nickname of Ghost Kitty.
But when we exited the roof and were back on ground level there was his little kitten face peeking at us from the top of the stairs. Somehow, somewhere he was hiding on the roof.
The next time we were presented with a chance to follow him we did, even Miss Priss came searching with us this time and delighted in checking out the roof. And this time J solved the mystery. You see, there's a thin branch of tree that extends near to the roof from the front of our building. After scouring the entire roof J was sure that Ghost Kitty had climbed into the tree so we exited the roof and went around the front of the building and there was the tiny kitten huddled high up in the tree watching us warily.
I didn't see much of Ghost Kitty after that but J assured me he was still around, though wary as ever. And when Miss Priss died and there were no longer cat food cans outside to scavenge I thought we had seen the last of him, until one day in early November J saw him on the back porch looking for food. J put a can out and the next day it was licked clean, so he put another can out. It too was emptied. Pretty soon Ghost Kitty started to show up for regular evening feedings. And not long after J cut a hole in a large cardboard box, filled it with padding, put some reinforcement on the outside and set it up under the porch just in case Ghost Kitty needed it. And we think he uses it sometimes to get out of the cold and while he's waiting for food.
Now, with his regular feedings he has grown from a kitten to a full-grown cat, though he's not more than a year old. He even meows at us now when he's hungry in short high-pitched bursts all stringed together. But he is not tame. He runs away whenever we go to put the food out. No one can get closer than six feet before he runs away, though we are all very calm around him and don't make any sudden moves in his direction. Still he remains wary and unsure, almost feral. He is nowhere close to being the store kitty that Miss Priss was, but I find myself looking forward to closing time even more now so I can peek at him from behind the window.
And I wouldn't be surprised if "he" showed up one day with kittens in tow.
I wish I could get better pictures of him, but these were taken through a window with the porch light as the only source of light. Plus my camera is old and gets very grainy when I have to zoom.
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| The markings on his side kind of look like a cartoon cat! |
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| By the food dish |
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| Ready to run at a moment's notice |
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