Black cat

Black catThe little black cat is even more elusive than he was before. In the last 6 days, I’ve caught a glimpse of his back leg and tail once, and I think the one who stays over occasionally saw him on Thursday night.

I’ve not been round much myself though, so it may just be that our paths haven’t crossed. I was away for five days last week. I arranged for my neighbours to pop in and feed both cats while I wasn’t around. When I got home, I settled down to being ill for four days and spent most of the time in bed, ignoring the cat-flap and the kitchen entirely.

I did glimpse his back leg and tail disappearing behind the curtain by the front door some time over the weekend, but nothing since, and I’m still worried about him.

It’s a big, nasty cold world out there, if you are a little stray black cat.

Hopefully blogging about it will bring him back.

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2 responses to “Black cat

  1. Oh don’t. I’m an absolute sucker for cat stories. I’ll be lying awake worrying about the little black cat now.

    (I used to have a little black cat of my own, called Mordecai. She (well, yes, it’s quite hard to get the gender right first go) died in my lap, of cat flu, at a year old, and I have been a pathetic soppy pushover about little black cats ever since).

  2. Poor little Mordecai.

    Well, the blogging worked and the Blak Kitteh’s back each night now. Still as nervous as gubbins though.

    Aphra.

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