I am still visited by the ‘would be’ stray cat who lately looks rather more sad than when he first appeared in our neighbourhood. He no longer has a collar. His fur looks duller. He looks thinner than he used to look … and those piercing, blue eyes stare unblinkingly as he sits and miaows in a pleadingly soulful way for some food. I always give in … and he bounces about so happily and scoffs with total abandonment. My cat tolerates him a little more than she used to but not to the point where he can pass the threshold.
“A cat is only a spit away from its wild relatives for you can never really own a cat. It will tolerate you but only for as long as you are useful. It will make you do its bidding. It will make you want it – but never confuse its gentle rubs or melodious purr for love for a cat is a survivor and it saves its affections for itself.” Anon