the creatures who come through

It snowed all Sunday night, and we got a lot. Now, it's cold and I'm keeping the bowl of bird seed topped up outside; the birds finally discovered it. The little orange feeder disappeared weeks ago - it was suddenly gone, but hadn't fallen into the bushes. So, if someone - a squirrel, or raccoon, perhaps - took it, that's fine with me.

But some of Diane's cats are hanging out underneath the little table near the seed. I see them out there, then open the front door and startle them. They're cute cats, and they look at me in wide-eyed nervousness, ready to fly if I try to come too close. I said to my brother, "The way most cats look at you is not the same look as the way Mr. Kibble always looked at you." He said something I hadn't thought of. He said, "Well, he was looking for help."

All those years, "asking" for food, roaming from place to place, keeping his distance. But yes, he was looking for help, he just didn't know how to go about it.