While my new foster-cat, Portia, occupies much attention, both in my home and on my blog, I have another visitor to the apartment. Actually, he comes just to Café Cosy. His hours are usually late, and he misses even dinner-time, preferring a nocturnal supper. I call him Orlac, because of his hands…
The food-bowl is in its little shelter, and it’s awkward for Orlac to put his head in there to eat directly from the bowl. Instead, he reaches in and grabs a handful of kernels and drops them on the ground, to eat them from there. Earlier, I had wondered why there were so many pieces of hard-food on the ground in front of the bowl. He reminds me of me, eating popcorn on movie night.
I once had three young raccoons and their mother visiting. I worry about what happened to them, and hope they simply moved and that they suffered nothing bad. Orlac may be one of the youngsters. If so, he may be a lone survivor of the family.
But he is always welcome at Café Cosy. Here, his visit is benevolently observed by Neville, who was working the late shift as maître d’ this night.