The Saga Continues

Bob knows when I'm back, and was waiting for me to haul my stuff in the house.

Proof that yes, I can pet him. Costs me some treats, but I think that will gradually ease off.

Some info on Bob that y'all probably didn't know - he's been Road Pig's outdoor cat for some time. RP and his lovely wife Tracy used to live two houses west from the current abode - they bought a different place and moved. At any rate, Bob and several other cats have been part of their household or outside. Bob is one of their outside cats - he was feral and they tamed him. His sister was and his mother is basically feral, even after trying to civilize 'em. Bob is also "fixed." RP reports that was a severe blow to the cat/human relationship, but Bob finally got over it.

Tracy can actually pick him up and hold him, RP not so much. He does have an endearing trait - when he's happy he sort of barrel rolls and sometimes stays on his back, flailing his legs. RP can tell when he's about to do that - he says Bob sort of leans over in a certain way, then he rolls right over.

RP has been and ever shall be a prankster. One of Alleah's boyfriends was, shall we say, somewhat naive. He and RP were talking outside when Bob came along, and RP started telling the impressionable young man about how he had trained this cat. When Bob started his trademark lean, RP told him to roll over.

Epic.

So, I have discovered that when I step outside, I'm likely to have a cat out there hoping for a handout, but also really starting to like being petted. Went out a few minutes ago, and there he was. No treats necessary - I could pet him.

He has also shown an interest when I open the front door to go in. He seems to be checking it out, wanting to come in. He has shown an interest in open doors with my pickup - but I'd think he'd probably freak if I shut him in at this stage in our "relationship." At any rate, he'd just be a visitor - the Poor Farm Relocated is not equipped for extended cat stays, If You Know What I Mean And I Think That You Do.

Also, I must be a legend among the local cats now. Several yards away on my last trip outside was a black cat with a partial white face and chest - keep in mind it was completely dark out there - it looked black anyways. He/she was meowing piteously while I rubbed on ol' Bob. It just wasn't fair, it seemed to be saying. Bob was soaking up the attention, being a typical cat. So much the better for him, that this other cat was afraid of me.

Apparently that is my mission in life now, winning over the hearts and minds of the neighborhood cat community.