Breakfast in Feral Cat Land . The ever cautious Blondie approaches the food dish. Feral Tom immediately switched over to the other dish to prevent Blondie from getting at the food. As if to say: “Its mine!! All mine!!” Cats. Ha ha . The dastardly one, Feral Tom. Making kittens and then refusing to pay child support. . . Feral kitten. Frankly, the last thing I need. But at least there’s one nice thing about it. Blondie, the mother, who’s about 50 in human years, was starting to get a little jaded. As aging cats can get. But this morning she was romping around the woods like a playful kitten. Scratching on tree trunks and frollicking around. And watching over her kitten like a proud mama, as the kitten feasted away at the catfood dish. I could tell it put a little spring in her step. Blondie, the haunting feral cat. . . . Blondie does this weird thing where she stares at me for long periods. I can never figure what she’s thinking. . . . I’ve had a dysfunctional relationship with Blondie for 7 years. Have known her since she was a wee little kitten. So we know each other pretty good. For example, its 1:08 AM right now and I’d bet money that Blondie is waiting impatiently at my campsite for me to show up with some food. I’m drunk and still down on Telegraph (just saw Ted at Kips). I better get my ass in gear. . Moo Cat. Doing her immaculate grooming ritual that she does after every feeding. Some of you have an attitude about feral cats. Like they’re grungy, dirty, disease-ridden alley cats. Not so. They’re clean and beautiful. Most of them. And the same goes for most homeless people too. It can be difficult to stay clean when you’re homeless. Too bad. I don’t find the smell of soap so wonderful. Or the bullshit people spray on their armpits out of some neurotic compulsion foisted on them by Wall Street advertising executives convincing them that humans smell bad so some schmuck can make money selling them a product to camoflauge their natural smell….. I don’t like most colognes either. . This is Moo Cat the feral cat. She’s feeling fine at this particular moment. Her stomach is crammed full of excellent food. She’s sitting on my comfortable blanket. And she’s being petted by me. In fact she’s purring wildly. There are no predators after her ass. She’s not worrying about the future. Or feeling guilty and regretful about her past. Cats are hip to some crucial, basic knowledge about life. . Moo Cat. In the middle of the action, as usual.