I was walking down the street, studying the flowers and land. At the far end, a black cat lay in the road. I paused to look closer at one of the weeds, and when I next looked to the cat, it was walking toward me.
There was a hesitant sort of dance. I didn't want to scare the kitty away, but I wanted closer. On it's part, I think the cat just wasn't sure whether I was friendly or not. Upon agreement that a little pet and sniff wasn't going to hurt anyone, we met in the middle.
There was a collar, but no tags. The collar was too small. Skin around the cats torso hung in a way that suggested weight loss. A sore on the tail confirmed that this cat was, if not homeless, at least not well cared for. (A large, pink, wet-looking sore with swollen puss-filled bumps. Occasionally, the poor kitty would turn slowly to lick at it.)
After begging Hubby, we brought the kitty home. It desperately needs a trip to the vet. With all of our other animals -- three cats, a small dog, and several rats -- it is unlikely that we will be able to keep the newcomer. I will probably end up seeing to it's health and finding it a loving home.
Kitty seems to be fairly comfortable already. We saw to feeding it, and cleaned the wound with diluted hydrogen peroxide. Confidently, it sniffed about the space, before finding a good spot and sprawling out. Movements were slow and carefully deliberate, but not in a way to suggest slinking or an inclination to run at a moments notice.
The only thing it clearly didn't like was being put into the travel box. Considering the cat is taller than the box, I don't blame it, but there really wasn't another option. Once in the box, all was a-ok, so long as I kept my fingers in petting range.
(I believe the feline to be male, but it's hard to be sure. If male, definitely fixed. We'll know more about the situation after the weekend, when we can get in to the vet.)