A few mornings ago, very early, while tackling my first 6000 steps for the day, I had a feeling of being watched. I looked up. One of the rarely seen wild cats from next door was peeking over the top of our old bungalow. This one is a dark marmalade, with barely a spot of white anywhere.
I remember when I first saw this little fellow. His mother had him stashed in our backyard but he’d moved into a patch of sunlight where he’d fallen asleep. Besides being the darkest ginger I’d ever seen, he also was the tiniest. By his size, I’d be forgiven for thinking him a newborn, but when he startled awake, I saw that his eyes had already changed colour and he dashed away with the gait of an older kitten. Late last year, his mother was killed on the highway, but fortunately he and his fluffy calico siblings had been weaned by then and used to next-door’s feeding schedule.