Mini Scaredy does this thing that kills me. Every night she’ll be waiting for me, hiding in the bushes a couple blocks down the road from the trail to my campsite in the Berkeley hills. Many nights she’ll wait there — hiding in the bushes by the road — for 2 or 3 hours. Waiting for me to show up.
Then when she spots me staggering up the road — usually around 1 AM in the morning, drunk — she’ll come running up to me (she keeps a couple feet away from me because she knows I’m drunk and might step on her in the darkness of night — she’s not dumb). And then she’ll run towards the trail. And I’ll follow behind her. She’s like leading the parade. And she helps me get up the trail. Because its usually pitch dark and I’m drunk and i can barely see where I’m going. So it helps that she’s leading me up the trail because I can see her flickering image as she runs up the trail a couple steps ahead of me.
When we get up to my campsite the other three feral kittens are waiting for me (they’re hungry). And Mini Scaredy is so proud of herself (leading the parade) like, “Look who I delivered up to our campsite, fellow cats.”
As soon as I lay down my cardboard matting, Mini Scaredy comes rushing over to say hello to me. This is the magic moment they’ve all been waiting for. I pet her a couple times then I break out the cat food. And then they all feast.
And then we all go to sleep in a big clump for the next 8 hours. That’s the best part!
Its like a ritual we inact every night.