My Stray Cat Is Gone
" My Stray Cat" is a linguistic contradiction since stray cats by definition don't belong to anyone. But I have come to regard "Catty" [that's the unimaginative name I gave her] as mine, and we have known each other for more than a year. There she sits every day on the footpath that leads to the bus stop from several blocks of apartments. And that's how I came to be acquainted with her on my way to work in the morning and on my way home in the evening. Catty is not a beautiful cat, unlike Lucy the cat at the marketplace, the feline equivalent of Marilyn Monroe, wearing a collar set with Rhinestones and sexily purring her way into everyone's heart . Nor has she an adorable disposition, like Tom, the cute cat who loves to sit in places with a good view, his head poking out between the iron railings of the staircase and giving you a welcoming meow. Catty, is a dour, morose cat. You never see Catty prancing about, playing with twigs and leaves or even ...