Tucker, the black and white long haired stray - or is he a missing cat - has stolen into the house.
We're unsure of Tucker's origins. He showed up hungry one day. I saw him, my wife did not. She's under the mistaken impression that I think that all cats are hungry and must be fed. She's wrong.
I fed Tucker for several weeks before my wife fully glimpsed him. By then he'd cleaned up his fur, the nervous panic and fear had seeped away from his personality and he'd gained weight. "He belongs to someone else," she declared, and came up with different scenarios.
Tucker has been living here since the beginning of June. My wife thinks he leaves; I've discovered him watching her walk around several times when she declares, "He's left," spying on her from leafy vantages and underbrush. If he belongs to another householder, nobody is searching for him and he's not anxious to leave. His most heartfelt need is the desire to be around people and be touched. That he's home schooled is clear. He recognized and used the litter box and understands domesticated cat protocols. He's not out to assert a position or upset the house's order. He just wants to gain acceptance. He leaves the other cats alone, which is fine with Lady. She gives him a glance now and again but mostly, being a cat, she's preoccupied with her own needs.
Quinn, though, thought he would be Number 1 now that Scheckter vacated the position. Quinn is Number 1 cat but he's vexed that Tucker will quietly come in, find a space, curl up and sleep, or bathe himself.
As I type this, Tucker has been sleeping on an office chair. Now, as though my thoughts draw his mind, he's raised his head and is watching me with sleepy eyes. It could just be that my typing is making a racket and he's looking up to see what's causing all the noise.
Causes Michael Seidel Supports
Kiva, Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, Propublica.org, Doctors Without Borders, GreaterGood.com