So we have this white cat that runs around the neighborhood with his 348653876 other stray cat friends, living the good life in abandoned houses up and down our street. Most of them are pretty scared of any humans, but there's one in particular that has been really friendly to us. I say friendly because he's the only one that comes and eats the food I put on the back deck for him. Sure, he hisses at me, but I know it's a love-hiss.
About 10 months ago, we found some clumps of white fur in our front yard, and no sign of this white cat (lovingly named Snowball, as opposed to his black-and-white counterpart, Dirty Snowball) anywhere. In fact, we hadn't seen him at all since that day, so we assumed he either ran away or was killed.
Yesterday, I was surprised to see what looked like a thinner, less fluffy version of our old favorite stray cat, running around our giant litter-box-of-a-back-yard. I called him over and he instantly ran to me, but stopped short of grabbing distance. I grabbed him some food from our cats' bowl and he happily ate it on the back deck.
I'm still not sure if it's really Snowball, in some kind of post-apocalyptic, Mad Max kinda rebirth, or if it's just one of his kin. Either way, it's good to have a nice outdoor cat around again.
Sarah and I have this plan to take him with us when we move. Wish us luck on that.
In other news, we go to closing on this new house on September 7th. I know, right? Where have all the updates been from "We're looking at a house" to "Oh, we're going to closing next week"? Well, I get a bit superstitious about these things, and to tell you the truth, it could still all fall through in the next week, but I'm feeling optimistic today. Once we get settled into that house -- as long as everything goes through alright -- you won't be able to keep my mouth (fingers?) shut about it.