A Stray Cat Among Domestic Felines

A bit of everything. Light and fluffy. Hard and crusty. Whatever suits me. I wander cities, twitching under streetlights, restless…

Was offered a home once. Meals… always. Funny, those savior types. My collared contemporaries despise me.

Jealousy is such an ugly shade to attire oneself in.

Once, I curled next to a dog to keep warm against the cold of a horrible Chicago winter. Some alley in a neighborhood tourists never visit. We awoke and went our separate ways. Saw each other thrice after. Never once spoke of it.

I gave myself to a housecat for a month’s worth of food and lodging. Passed his litter later under a bridge and left them to move on.

You won’t believe me, but there was an overcast Saturday in March of ought seven when I saved a mouse from drowning.

And let him scurry along. Unharmed. Not a nibble.


Yes… a bit of everything.

Wandering is a tiresome gig.

Now I nap at a windowsill
I am neither hers
Nor is she mine

I see others like me, but not like me. Well-kept. Well-presented. Manicured and combed.

It makes me long for the nights of freedom and trashcan treasure hunting.

But I stretch along the sill. It’s consistent and the sun warms me, patchy bits and mangled tail. Half bitten ear jerking at the pattering of squirrels sprinting across the roof.

I suppose this is something.

And that is all.

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