Gray's Introduction to the World

Last Saturday, as I went outside to feed my birds, a thin gray cat came out of the bushes, rubbing its head against my ankles.  After my initial surprise subsided, I noticed it was a familiar cat over the past few months, although clearly thinner than when I saw it before, early in the summer.  "I am NOT a cat person," I admonished the cat, as it began to mew.  We had no cat food in the house, so its visit was rewarded by Trader Joe's tuna fish in olive oil.  Needless to say, over the next few days, as the cat began to appear more frequently (and, equally frequently was fed 2% milk, more tuna and then dry cat food), my husband and I began the conversation about "what do we do with this cat?"  Had we called the animal shelter last weekend, its fate would be up to the shelter gods.  But, after checking with local no-kill cat shelters (all full) and various friends and relatives ("no place for a cat", or "I already have two" or "We travel too much)...the cat found a place on our front porch or cooled off in the shade of our two northfacing side yards.  In spite of its pleas to come inside (it quickly found out that the back yard was our 12 1/2 year old dog's domain) the doors remained closed to its entry.  Our dog, Lia, also owns the inside of the house (the old, now torn leather couch, the foot of the bed and any other place she needs to throw down her arthritic 80 pound body).

So, to make a long(er) story short(er), yesterday, we took the cat to the Vets and learned he is a neutered two year old male, very docile, healthy (negative on blood tests) and now vaccinated for rabies, HIV and some other feline disease.  He has been called "Gray" (I added the British spelling to give him some status) and loosely identified as a Russian Blue.  "I've always wanted a Russian Blue cat," my husband told me, which after living together for 38 years was news to me. 

So here is Gray, sidling up to my plants.  He likes to sit on the porch and be stroked or petted while he eats.  He likes to poke at lizards as they run (we haven't seen him catch any yet) and managed to rid himself of a red breakaway collar with a bell in less than two hours.  Gray will return to the Vets at the end of the month for his microchip and although he will remain an outside cat while we have Lia, Gray has already proven his worth:  my husband now slows down in the morning after the newspaper and his negative rants against politics have been minimized as he contentedly pets Gray on the porch.  As for me, although I still would say "I am not a cat person", obviously, Gray is the exception.  How long he remains with us, time will tell, but for now, Gray is home.