In From the Wild

One little feral cat has decided to embrace civilization, such as it is. He permitted me to pet him and stand guard while he ate, fending off his food-snatching buddies. When he clawed his way up my jeans leg to sit on my lap, I knew he had acquiesced to a different life.

In collaboration with a neighbor who knows the ways of cats, I got him to a vet about a week ago. At about six months, he weighed in at 2.9 pounds. Since agreeing to live temporarily in my extremely humble abode, he has gained 8/10 of a pound and may have to be re-named from "Mousie" for his runt status to a more suitable moniker for a handsome young kitty.

Mousie outside was a forlorn little creature, often sitting alone in the vast expanse of the driveway with no ambition or playfulness. Inside, he has proven to be conversational, curious and given to drama when confronting a crumpled paper ball or a crocheted spider.

Although I continue to protest that I am not currently capable of nurturing any higher form of life than a house plant, some people are insisting that Mousie was meant to be my companion. We'll see.

--Bernice Paglia