Officially one of a million and a half. But not to us!
Because he has an old injury in his front leg but
still comes running whenever we step out the front door.
The first time my son saw him
he couldn’t think of anything but the poor broken legged cat and what would become of him.
Then we made friends with him.
And found out it’s an old problem and that
he is actually the happiest and friendliest cat we’ve ever known!
He is not in pain now.
The entire neighbourhood feeds and spoils him.
He purrs like a lawnmower.
We wish we could adopt him. But since that would slowly suffocate me to death, I’m thinking we’ll hang out instead.
Is that okay, dear little friend?