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Chronicles Of A Dumpster Cat: Part II

Previously on Chronicles Of A Dumpster Cat

Since my interaction with the only person I met, since I was evicted, that ever cared about me, I’d been able to find my own food.  At least for a few weeks.  Mice and birds taste much better than that stuff in a can or a bowl and they’re more fun to play with first.  But, one day, I was too weak to catch any.  I tried to remember where the person lived.

I thought I found the right nest, but I couldn’t see him and he never came out.  I hopped up onto the window sill and looked in.  He was there, but he couldn’t see me.  So, I spoke to him.  He looked.  The noise in the place stopped all of a sudden.  It was weird.  He turned to me and reached his hand through the window to pet me.  I tried to come in, but he shoved me out.  He told me he wasn’t allowed to let me in.

I tried to tell him I wanted some food.  I knew he cared because he fed me before, but he closed the windows to a lower level than I could squeeze through.  He wasn’t going to listen to me, and I was sure he just forgot who I was, so I went around to the back of the building and climbed into his kitchen.

He was angry with me.  I don’t know why.  But, even still, he picked me up and put me on his back porch, told me to wait, and brought me a can of tuna and a bowl of milk.  Maybe this wasn’t really his nest.

I didn’t want to bother him any longer, or get him in trouble, so I ate the food and left.  I knew I’d see him again though and, when I did, I wanted to be nicer.

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