Close Encounters of the Furred Kind

    Yesterday while reclining in a chair on the front porch in the moon-lit dark with my favorite alley cat (whom I call) Percy, I noticed his ears go up and then looked in the direction he was staring. It isn’t uncommon for one of the half dozen stray kitties in the neighborhood to stop by unannounced, thinking they can get a few kibbles from the supply I leave for Percy on the glass table. If the porch light is on they clearly see me, and hang out on the edge of darkness to outwait me (cats are the very pajamas of patience). In the darkness, however – depending on how still I am – a couple of them have even jumped in my lap thinking I was the chair. It doesn’t sit well with any of the strays finding themselves on my lap (except Percy, who…