There he is...at the blue dustbin.
The only glitch is...Daffodil and Rosie like to follow me whenever I step out of the house. They are my "bodyguards".
He's sitting like a lion.
(Immediately, the song "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" comes to mind.)
So while I walked around the playground, Willy sits...like a lion, watching me, probably thinking, "What are you up to now?"
A neighbour came by with his son, on bicycle and Willy disappears.
Oh, he's just gone to the steps.
He goes down the steps towards the mother-and-daughter.
He approaches nearer.
Daffodil hides under the car. Rosie hisses.
There is a hissing competition. Nothing serious, I'm sure (or so I thought).
Ginger watches from the pillar.
Vincent takes a rest. After all, he's just had dinner. Even a Stormtrooper gets a break once in a while.
Then, I heard cat-fight noises and Rosie came running back from the playground, in hot pursuit by Willy-O!
Rosie takes cover under our car in the porch.
Well, the playground IS Willy's territory, isn't it? Willy stopped pursuing in the middle of the road and goes back to his playground spot (under the car). I guess this means the sore on his ear isn't disturbing him much.
Just then, my son said there is a new cat under our other car. Husband said he had in fact seen this cat just now, mooching around outside our drain.
I went down low on the ground, sniper-style, with my camera and voila...there you are!
It's a tabby with white mittens
And he (or she) is there with Mr G who does not seem to mind the presence of the new cat at all. Maybe they are already friends.
Vincent was okay with this new tabby too.
There you are...hello, Mittens!
I quickly asked my husband to go bring some food. He did, and by the time we put the bowl of food down, Mittens had run out of the gate.
Hmm...a new cat on the block, and Mittens looks young too.
As I looked at our Patio Cats, they are lucky because they have a safe haven here where they can always come to to seek shelter. But with cat politics, though we offer our porch to any cat, it isn't easy for the cats to get a "passport". They have to "fight" for a place. Not only that, but to fight their own fears and uncertainties. And to be brave enough to trust us humans.
That's not easy.
But that's the life of a street animal.