While I could write a whole encyclopedia about why I love my cat Nala, there's something equally special about sidewalk cats.
Little Love Number Two: Outgoing neighborhood cats
I was out walking the other night when I heard this irrepressible meow coming from down the block. I kept walking, eventually reaching the source of the noise: a peppery black-and-gold cat with a smushed-in face and a fierce scar over its left eye. It was balanced on the wet wooden rail of a small balcony, but when I came close, it tentatively slid down the railing to jump onto the sidewalk and say hello. I extended my hand, and the little guy ran toward me.
Man, this cat was all about being pet. I guess a lot of cats are, but this one wouldn't shut up for one second. I adored it for that reason alone.
After a few minutes together, I noticed a sign that said "Don't beware of dog: beware of owner," so I slipped away as I heard the front door open. A young kid in a yellow t-shirt emerged, and the cat followed me to the corner before going back home.
I'm smiling now, just thinking about it.
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