The Neighborhood Cat

Every neighborhood has one: the cat lady.

Mine lives across the street, and happens to be a physician. She takes in the stray cats who populate our mountain in packs of feral felines, fixes them, feeds them, and lets them go. We have quite a healthy pack of cats living around here.

This gray/blue cat is named Gretal. She belongs to the Doc, although, I think she belongs to herself. In this photo, she has on a collar with her name, but usually she is galavanting around the neighborhood quite naked. She is a beautiful thin little kittie, and for a time adopted us as her second family when she was younger.

She liked to sunbathe on our deck and tease our poor dog, who in fine doggy fashion, would rather chase a cat then be a buddy. She would follow me down the street with her tail in the air, or hide in my bushes and shrubs, only to leap out taunting my leashed dog to play catch. She used to roll over and show either Baron or me her belly for a rub, then grind her head against my jeans.

Now she is older and wary of strangers. She is still the neighborhood cat, hiding in my bushes or sleeping on my front doorstep but no more belly rubs. This shot was taken when she was younger, and liked to sleep in a shaft of sunshine in my backyard.