The Cat No One Wants

Part of the view outside the kitchen window is the roof of the garage next door. A mulberry tree leans leans over its black tarred surface.

By late spring the roof is covered with fresh mulberries. All summer doves and squirrels visit to feed on the dried mulberries. First come the birds, then the squirrels. They chase each other back and forth for berries. Some days the roof is covered with doves. The supply seems endless.

I also see outside on occasion an old tom of a cat, with a dirty white coat, ears torn from fights, tail bobbed. He goes anywhere. No one seems to like him. "Shoo, shoo shoo," I hear from one backyard to the next.

Recently he's taken to visiting our backyard. I hear him screech at the cat from downstairs, and I catch our neighbor shouting, "Get out!"

So now he just visits from the top of the walls that enclose the yard. There are so many vines that cover the wall that he can rest all day in the shade of their leaves. And it's just a small leap to the roof. To the next backyard.

One morning more recently, I heard feathers ruffling outside. Whomph! I glanced outside. A dove hung in the dirty cat's mouth.

I miss the morning chatterings I used to hear. The roof is empty now.