There’s a new cat in the neighborhood. She is black with gold markings on her fur. Elbie told me about her on Monday, how he wonders how the cat will make it through the winter, worrying about her hunting prospects in addition to wondering if she is truly feral or a stray, or if she’s just turning the neighborhood into her kingdom.
Yesterday I went to their house to pick up wood for Leah’s 50th birthday party. There’s going to be a fire pit. Lori, Elbie’s wife, pointed out the cat who was non-plussed by people who were standing about fifteen feet away from her.
Early this afternoon, Leah texts me she saw the cat and how the cat was walking away with a female cardinal in her mouth. I know cats have to eat, but I’m saddened by this. I know the male cardinal. I know his song. I’ve seen him and her eat at our feeder. I remember feeling a measure of joy spying them in the forsythia bush during early spring.
Now he’s a widow.