This is Mittens......Peter named him...I call him a lost soul. He is a homeless cat that has wandered the neighborhood for at least as long as we have been in it. He is an old man and has many battle wounds to show for it.He once was plump and always quick, but has started to show age and is not able to provide for himself like he used to. He has become a regular fixture on my front porch and has allowed me to get within a foot of him. Sometimes he is battered and bleedingand looking for a kind word, other times he is just looking for a quiet place to rest.He has come to give me a small amount of trust and has adopted me and looks to me for food when he can't catch enough. I keep fresh water nearby. I look at him and wonder what his life has been like. I feel sad. I look at thrown away animals and wonder if they ever knew a gentle touch, a warm bed, or kisses of affection. I look at Mittens and wish I could give him a simple scratch behind the ears, a rub under the chin. I will have to settle knowing that he is keeping his stomach full and can seek shelter from the sun and rain under the house. Maybe he is not so lost, after all, he found his way to my house.
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