For only the third time to date, I was able to feed another of the neighborhood cats.  I believe this one is female based on personality.  I could, however, be terribly and insultingly wrong.

Regardless of sex, I am assuming the tipped ear means sexual function has been surgically deactivated.

This cat is far shier than any of the others I’ve seen around here so far, including Chira and Vazra.  She’s also more feral, although that infers a level of wildness she does not possess.

She’s not entirely fearful of people.  She’s also not completely trusting of us.  She’s never sure what to do about me: Run?  Or watch carefully?  It all depends on how close I am and what I do.  Mostly, she watches me carefully.

As I mentioned in my previous post, she does allow me to feed her from time to time.  I can count such occasions on one hand.  I’d call that very slow progress considering I’ve seen her around here for more than a year.

She’s always very curious about me; likewise, she’s always leary of me.  It’s fun watching that struggle take place in her each time she visits.

This particular sightseer also roams quite a bit after dark.  She has on more than one occasion chanced upon raccoons and opossums.  Why that seems to happen mostly right outside my patio fence I simply can’t imagine…

She’s also the young lass who follows Vazra sometimes when he comes to visit.  She’s lonely, I can tell, and you’d see it plain as day were you to spy her under such circumstances.  She sits outside the fence and cries for him.  It’s almost heartbreaking to hear and see.  She needs company, companionship, someone to help her feel like she matters.  It can’t be denied.

She followed him to my patio one morning and waited for him as he ate and got dawn’s serving of lovin’.  She stood there the entire time crying and pleading in the hope he would hear her need and oblige her the comradeship.  Vazra, on the other hand, didn’t know what to make of her other than she was terribly pushy.  For the first time since I’d informally been introduced to her, she ate some cat food as she waited.

As Vazra left having enjoyed his time with me, she happily followed with a heartfelt joy on her lips.  I almost cried.  There was a desperation in her that smelled of an emptiness inside that could only be filled with contact.

I guess that’s why I really like her and pay attention to her as much as I can.  She needs it.  She says as much from time to time when she finds the strength and will to speak.  It’s always the cry of the alone, a question for which she will not accept my answer.  At least not yet.

Ultimately, there are a lot of stray and feral cats in this area.  The lake supports an abundance of wildlife because it is a federally-protected refuge.  I suspect that is undoubtedly a reliable source of food.  The feline population also benefits from people like me who feed them without question.  I know for certain that I am not the only one.

Will I name this little lady?  It’s possible, but not yet.  I am a convenient curiosity for her.  I doubt it’s much more than that.  Sure, a meal now and again is always nice, and I’m probably quite entertaining with my whispered cooing and animated gesticulating, but it’s hard to say that I’m much more than that.  She’s just very distant and distrusting of people.

Well, I have time to work on that.

Here’s the best picture of her I have right now.  Click on it for a larger version that makes it a bit easier to appreciate those gorgeous eyes.

And the first photo I got of her?  I hope you’re not holding your breathe.  Again, click on it for a larger version (although the quality goes downhill because the original was taken with much rapidity and lack of preparation).

That’s as close as I could get considering where she was.  When I tried to improve my view, she bolted.

[Update] I have since named this cat Larenti.