Among the many ferals that inhabit our neighborhood, one has truly captured my attention. He’s a Siamese cat I call Sam.
Sam has only one eye and a ragged coat. He is one of the regulars at Beth’s Diner, the feeding station for all the homeless cats in the neighborhood.
Recently during our afternoon walk, Rumpy and I saw a well-meaning young woman trying to coax Sam out from beneath a vehicle. I told her his story and she seemed comforted that he was getting regular meals, but I could tell she really wanted to love this baby and take him home.
I know, Sister, I wish you could too.
But what does Sam want?
I’m sure he wants a regular meal, a safe place to lay his head, and a supportive environment.But Sam is feral, so I don’t know that he sees a safe environment as inside anyone’s home.
It’s difficult to watch Sam live that kind of life. There are many dangers ferals face. His life expectancy is nowhere near that of June Buggie’s. There are opossums, raccoons, other cats, cars and evil humans to contend with.
Sam naps in the afternoon beneath a tree on the side of the house. He’s usually there when I come home for lunch. In the mornings I hear him mowling as he heads toward the diner. In the evenings he’s often seen walking down the way toward where Rumpy’s pal Pitbull lives.
And I give him the respect and dignity he deserves.