Translated from the feline…
Kipling: WHAT IS THIS.
Porch Cat: I uh. Hi.
Kipling: THIS IS MY HOUSE!
Porch Cat: I’m really really hungry. (Note: original text: OWWWWWWRRWOWR. -Ed.)
Kipling: GO AWAY!
Pirate: *gets a bowl of kibble for Porch Cat*
Kipling: WHAT IS THIS BETRAYAL?
Porch Cat: *nomf nomf mfmm chomp nomf*
I don’t know whose cat this is. Last summer I saw him around, and now he’s back, looking a little rough around the edges. He’s a beautiful cat, with gorgeous blue eyes. And he’s totally not coming inside. I don’t mind providing the occasional meal on the porch, but that’s where I draw the line!
My neighbour saw me outside, and called over to tell me that I’m a big softy. (I’m generally okay with this.) The next day, I left for work and Porch Cat was chilling on my front steps. When I got home, Porch Cat was waiting for his dinner… so I fed him. Big softy, that’s me.
That night it rained, and at 04:30 I heard Porch Cat crying. OWWWWWWRRWOWR. YAWWWRWWRAR. I gently told him to go elsewhere and he did, but he’s been spending a lot of time on my porch ever since… even though it’s been raining fairly constantly. I wonder if he has a home to go home to.