Cat magnet.

One of the first baby gifts I got as an infant was a little white towel with a multi-colored quilted cat on it. The towel was a gift from my Aunt Dolly, and I still have it. The colors on the cat have faded over the years, but you can still see the little crown on top of the cat's head, and it's still very clear that the animal on the towel is a cat.

That towel must have been an omen..... that over the years of my life, I would very rarely be without a cat. Even during the years of apartment living when my mother absolutely positively refused to let me bring a "stray flea-ridden cat that's been god-know-where" into her home, I still managed to sneak food into the basement of the apartment building for various cats and kittens for the years that we lived there.

My mother was not a cat person. Nor a dog person. If it walked on more than two legs and couldn't hold itself upright, then she wasn't much interested. My dad loved all animals... he would forever be bringing stray cats and dogs home from the bus depot, but then would have to find other homes for them when my mother put her high-heeled foot down and said absolutely not. About the only pets my dad and I could get away with when I was a little kid were the baby chicks, bunnies, and ducks he would bring home at Easter time. About three months later, all those baby Easter surprises would mysteriously end up 'out on the farm with lots of other chicks, bunnies, and ducks they can play with.' (Little kids will believe anything.)

This morning, I was outside in the front courtyard making sure there was enough water in the fountain for the birds to bathe in and drink..... that beautiful fountain is more of a birdbath than a garden ornament. I always look out into the field to check for wildlife... I don't want my chickens to be surprised by a fox or a stray dog as they peck around the front yard. As my eyes scanned the pasture, I saw the unmistakable outline of a cat. When I got the binoculars to check, the cat looked very much like Sweet Pea. Of course, I couldn't just leave it out there staring at an empty pond that's been waiting for rain that never gets here.

Into the house I went, bringing Gatsby with me. That cat is very possessive of his property and I knew he would chase the other cat away if he happened it see it. I walked down the hill with a dish of cat food and a dish of water. The cat meowed as soon as it saw me, and came right up to see what was in the bowls. Gobble, gobble, gobble.... steadily but daintily, so I guessed it was a female. After the dishes were empty, she cleaned her paws and sat there looking at me. I took the plastic bowls up off the ground, asking the cat to follow me back to the house. Meow, meow, meow. 'Well.... are you staying out here in the blazing sun, or coming up to the porch with me?'

The cat started to follow me..... up from the tall grass at the side of our fence, up to the pavement of the road. She followed me for a bit, then sat by my feet, and gave me that sad little lost cat look that felines do so well. Meow, meow, meow. I picked her up and carried her all the way to the house. She didn't move until I started walking down the driveway, then she started to wiggle a little bit. I put her down in the grass and she walked into the shade of the pecan trees. When she put her nose down into the grass to have a little sniff, off she went.... running out into the pasture towards the pond. Possibly, her little nose smelled Gatsby's scent. Or the chickens. Or possibly a night-time wildlife visitor.

In any case, the last I saw of the cat was her tail sticking up in the tall grass by the pond. If she gets hungry and thirsty enough, she'll be back up here by the house again. Either that, or I will be walking down the hill again with cat food and water.