Last night, I was letting Buster out.

When I opened the door, and put a bowl of food out for him and his
buddies, a pretty black cat (Yes, Waffles, I know there is *no other*
kind - big grin) walked into the house.

She's adopted, or at least she has a pretty purple collar with a cloth
bow attached, but she comes by from time to time to nibble food or to
be petted.

Tonight, she was either confused about where she lives, or was
investigating us as an alternative home.

She walked into every open room and every closet, sniffing and looking
into every nook and cranny. She walked into the bathroom, and took an
appraising sniff of the clean litterbox (but didn't use it).

She climbed up on the Kitty Condo, checked out the enclosed areas, the
dangly toys and sharpened her claws on the scratching post (for which
she was amply praised!).

The whole time, Buster is sitting outside looking slightly miserable,
and Little Feet runs away from her every time she comes his way.

Finally, she went back to the front door, and pawed at it to be let
out. I warned her not to pick any fights with Buster, and she was kind
enough to oblige.

When she went out, I picked her up, and we walked around the corner to
where I think her people live, but she started crying when I went in
that direction.

Now, I know she's not abused - she is healthy, and sleek, and
obviously fed well.

Her nipples seemed to be hanging a bit, though, so she may be planning
a place to have kittens... Yikes!

Hugs and Purrs,
Mark