Ginger-And-White
is a big, feral tom cat, with the sort of expression that says "extra
garlic with my babies for breakfast." He was a minor character
in last-year's retelling of the classic love-triangle, Romeos and
Oubliette (I love you... No, I love you... Forget it, both of
you...)
G&W now lives in our barn. I put some food out for
him morning and evening – any additional snacks are his business to
catch.
He has been a regular resident for a few months, but
with no set routine until a few weeks back when he started hanging
around, waiting for breakfast. Now we have a regular morning
conversation as I walk in to the barn:
G&W jumps off the hay bales, retreats a safe
distance and hisses at me.
I tell him "that's not very nice."
G&W meows at me with a tone of voice that says:
"Watch it, writer. I invent worlds as well. Worlds of hurt and
bloodshed..."
I tell him "that's better."
G&W blinks at me.
I blink back and put the food down.
It's a relationship of sorts.
Relationships evolve. For the last few days, we have
skipped the whole hiss and meow bit. G&W just watches me from
the far side of the hay bale. There's still the promise of hurt and
bloodshed if I push my luck, and he waits until I am outside the door
before checking out breakfast.
The cat whisperer strikes again.
