Flopsy Cat
A few months ago we sort of adopted a couple cats. Or they sort of adopted us, depending on how we look at it. They had been hanging out between our house and the neighbor’s place and when we went down to do laundry they would meow at us and were very friendly. They rubbed on our legs and let us pet them.
One night my Love decided he wanted to feed them, but we didn’t have any cat food. We did, however, have ceviche that I was quite excited about and not terribly keen on sharing with cats. He put a little bit in a bowl and tapped the side and the two cats came running up three flights of stairs to our back door.
After that we got some cat food. They started coming into the bedroom to eat, and then the hall, and then the living room. Sometimes, they come and eat and sometimes (especially as the weather gets cooler) they stay a little longer. Timmy, the name we found out the neighbors call the male cat flops when he is being pet. And today he flopped right in my lap. He is not really mine, but we have some sort of understanding.
