Not Max

There's Max, of course. And then there's Not Max. Of course.

The Great Kitty Migration of 2007 to Our Little Acre has officially begun. Romie woke me up early this morning, which he knows better than to do unless it's something very important. "Honey, did you let a cat into the garage last night, thinking it was Max?"

No.

"Uh, well, there's a Max look-alike in our garage right now, laying in the kitty bed, purring."

NO.

If I roll over and go back to sleep, maybe when I wake up, I'll realize it was a dream nightmare. But as Jack jumps up on the bed and starts playing with my feet, I know I am awake and it's for real. I rolled over anyway. It's too early to deal with this.

When I got up an hour or so later, I went downstairs and cautiously opened the door to the garage. I peeked out and sure enough, there was a yella fella eating from the dish of cat food. He looked up briefly, then went back to what he was doing. He wasn't scared of me, in fact, once his appetite was satisfied, he came over and rubbed up against my legs. He let me pet him and I noticed he's very thin. He appears to have been 'out there' for awhile, but his friendliness tells me he once had a place he called home.

I don't know if he will end up staying here or we'll find that he belongs to one of the neighbors. I've not seen him in the neighborhood before, but I'll check around. In the meantime, if he needs a warm place to stay and food to eat, he's got our number.