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 Not quite a year and a half ago, a little cat started showing up in my yard.  He would sneak up on the porch for food, when I fed my other cats, and then, go back under the car.  About five weeks after I first noticed him, he started coming in the house, with the other cats, to eat.  (I put dishes in the house and on the porch when its cat-feeding time.  The door’s usually open and the cats also have two kitty doors, so they can come and go freely.)

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Then, for a year, the cat stayed in the house.  He let me pet him, but would always squat, like he was ready to run.  I have always tried to make him feel welcome.  He seemed most comfortable in the house, so that’s where he stayed, except for occasional strolls to the porch.  Then, I (finally) named him — “Homey”.   Seemed appropriate.  But, wouldn’t you know it, the very next day, after telling him his new name, he left!  Disappeared — for three days!  Crazy timing!     
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I suspect he was under the house, not feeling well, for that time, because he showed up with cobwebs on him.  He’s been in the house, primarily, since and, recently, started living on my desk.  (LOL.  I’m glad he feels comfortable.) 

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I know that the economy is tough and I suspect Homey was put out in the wild, by his previous owners [caretakers, as I call them] because they needed to eliminate a mouth to feed.  I completely understand.  As difficult as it is to feed another mouth here, I always feel blessed when a cat finds his way here. 

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Homey cries, sometimes…. sometimes right after dinner.  I think he may worry, then, that he won’t have food if he is put out.  I try to console him, but he still acts afraid when I pet him. 

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Why am I telling you this?  I don’t know.  I struggled with what to write about, this morning — trying to choose from a list of topics — and, then, just started feeling alone and abandoned…  Yes, much like Homey.  So, I thought I’d share my story about Homey.      

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