That's me. A sucker. A soft touch. Able to be swayed over by the tender gaze of mint green eyes and a sweet meow.
See, it started out innocently enough. A strange cat lurking in my yard, a little skittish, a little friendly. I had to investigate. She lives two doors down and her owners let her run the streets at all hours of the day and night. But they seem to take good care of her because she has no fleas and is (as this picture shows) a healthy chunk o' kitten.
But then she started hanging out here more and more. And I began to wonder as she seemed to be trying more innovative ways to catch birds, like crawling up under the pine straw. It's pretty hard to sneak up on a bird when you are blindingly white. I worried maybe she was hungry. Poor little thing. And here I was with an entire four pound bag of dry cat food that my spoiled brats turned their noses up at.
So I gave her a little.
And now, every afternoon around five, five-thirty, she sits on the sidewalk, staring plaintively at the door. When I open it, she runs up the stairs, hisses at Thor, and retreats to the sidewalk to await her evening snack.
She's very appreciative and gives me lots of kitten head rubs and purrs.