The stray cat who has been crying outside my apartment for over a week has moved in. According to the neighbor lady who had been feeding her (assume it's a her; will ask vet to confirm), she and a B&W kitten were dumped in the parking lot one afternoon by two "skanks" (her word, and I'll believe it) who took off. The kitten stopped coming around a day or two later and is presumed dead. This one has a slight wound above one eye; apparently most of the "strays" around here are actually feral. This one, you can see where the collar used to be. I hate people.
I wasn't going to get involved, but while I was sitting on my dumpster futon eating dinner last night a group of five tweenage kids threw things at it and one of them kicked it; it scratched her and they ran off before I got outside (the children are our future...we're boned). It came over and sat next to me, and that's when I knew I was doomed. The neighbor putting out kibbles wasn't home last night, but was tonight--after it had already rubbed all over me, and now I have a second cat. That resists being picked up, but uses the Zen garden, thank God.
Found a cats-only vet near work to call tomorrow.
No, I don't know how I'm going to get a cat back to Milwaukee. Or what I'm going to tell Satan's Little Helper.