I wish he could tell me his name. I call him T.T. because the night he showed up he literally wouldn't stop talking. T.T. is short for Talky Talky and the honey can't stand it because that is what his ex-mother-in-law used to call going pee pee.
I could hear him coming before I could see him, then he slipped under the fence and practically threw himself at me. Before I could figure out what was happening he had jumped onto my lap then rubbed his face all over mine.
He was very thin and gobbled up the honey's lunch meat but wouldn't touch my Tofutti cream cheese. His "talking" turned into complaining as I left him outside for the night. His complaining became screaming pleas as he came around to the front of the house where our bedroom is. Earplugs and pillows over the head did nothing to dim the incessant noise coming from that darned cat.
Talking with the neighbor I found out that T.T. had belonged to the previous occupant. When he passed away his roommate took T.T. with her 6 months ago. I don't know how far he travelled to get back home. I think that that first night he was looking for his dad and couldn't understand why I wouldn't let him in. I know now that he isn't the young cat I'd thought him to be but rather quite old.
It breaks my heart to think of the journey he took to get back here and not finding what he was searching for. He seems content now and only speaks when it is truly necessary (when his food bowl isn't completely full or there is something floating in his water).
I guess he is stuck with me.
I could hear him coming before I could see him, then he slipped under the fence and practically threw himself at me. Before I could figure out what was happening he had jumped onto my lap then rubbed his face all over mine.
He was very thin and gobbled up the honey's lunch meat but wouldn't touch my Tofutti cream cheese. His "talking" turned into complaining as I left him outside for the night. His complaining became screaming pleas as he came around to the front of the house where our bedroom is. Earplugs and pillows over the head did nothing to dim the incessant noise coming from that darned cat.
Talking with the neighbor I found out that T.T. had belonged to the previous occupant. When he passed away his roommate took T.T. with her 6 months ago. I don't know how far he travelled to get back home. I think that that first night he was looking for his dad and couldn't understand why I wouldn't let him in. I know now that he isn't the young cat I'd thought him to be but rather quite old.
It breaks my heart to think of the journey he took to get back here and not finding what he was searching for. He seems content now and only speaks when it is truly necessary (when his food bowl isn't completely full or there is something floating in his water).
I guess he is stuck with me.
