Feral cats hang out around our house, and sometimes underneath, which we know from the horrible noises and smells that result. I don’t know why they stick around, because we don’t feed them, but I’m hoping they eat beings I don’t want under my house.  I’m always a little afraid they’ll try to beat up Frances, but that’s no real excuse for me to yell things like “Get off my porch you piece of shit!” when one comes up. Not a piece of shit! A cat! Which species I take care of and dote on and try to heal in my job every day! It reminds me of (happily) being a teacher in New York but seeing kids on the subway and wishing they would get away from me because I hate them.


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