I have a visitor each night who comes in to see if there is any spare cat food.
There is, unless he’s eaten it all already, because I make sure that there always is. He eats his way steadily through great full bowls of the stuff but runs out of the house if I move and make eye contact. Nervous as he is, he was considerably worse at the start of the year. He no longer bolts the food down though he doesn’t waste any time either, and he now sits on the kitchen steps for – oh – 15 or 20 seconds after he’s finished eating instead of shooting off as soon as something spooked him. Tiger ignores him completely.
I’d assumed for a while that he was an opportunist trying his luck away from home the way that opportunists do, and in fact I used to clap to get him to go home. But he was so persistent and seemed so hungry that I lost the heart to do that.
However, it was only this week that it finally dawned on me that he is most likely either feral or a stray; sometimes I can be very stupid. He doesn’t have the tatty look I associate with entire toms – he certainly doesn’t spray in the house even though I know he beds down in the living room of a night sometimes. His coat’s shiny and he looks to be in fairly good shape, but then again he should be – he’s getting through a bowl of IAMs a day.
Oh my goodness – awful thought – maybe the reason SHE is so hungry is that she’s pregnant?