The mangy cat sauntered up the driveway on Wednesday evening as I pulled in after work. He looked back at me over his shoulder, paused and then kept walking.
It's the van cat. The one that James saw in the good old black van. Surprised that James hadn't scared the cat away, the scruffy thing has slept in the van for a few weeks now.
I feel bad for it and throw some dog food out on the driveway for it to find.
James comes home and I tell him that I think I'll be buying some cat food for the van cat.
"Probably a good idea."
Thus the Granthams may very well have an outdoor cat.
I put food and water in the van last night. The seat is COVERED in mangy cat hair. I'm surprised James hasn't closed up all the entry ways into the beast; there are probably too many to deal with.
I check on the cat this morning before work. He is resting on the seat, the food bowl knocked over and the water dish still intact. I sneak up on it and open the van door. He looks at me and slinks off the seat and exits from the engine compartment.
The food is eaten.
Reyde and I give him more sustenance tonight. He's drank plenty of water.
I suggest VAN CAT as the name of our new pet.
Or Vanny.
"No Mom, FUZZY."
Welcome Fuzzy the Van Cat to our world. Enjoy your new digs.
