Stray Cats
Stray cats, the most solitary yet lonely of creatures, with a lot of trust issues.
How relatable.
Hanging around, trying to survive on the streets. Or maybe they're just killing time, if they even know what time is.
Watching people walking around, maybe hoping for a treat. Euphorically approaching when they get it, mostly just hissing at the slightest touch.
Some of them were born for it, others not. Some of them used to have homes, but they were thrown away. They live for themselves, constantly looking for food and shelter, endlessly.
No affection, no love. The slightest social interaction with another stray is mostly bickering and fighting over food and/or territory.
Territories, not homes.
None of them know how much they need a loving home, maybe they don’t even know they deserve one.
Every day is a battle. Some with ticks, scabs and scars without antiseptic. Soaked by the rain. Stealing from another stray, from the back door of restaurants and food stalls. Heavily dependent on others, ironically for such independent smugs like them.
They don't usually bite the hands that feed them, but they don't want to be picked up, let alone taken to a home. They think they can make it on their own and don't even trust the people who feed them almost every day. But looking at their scars and greasy fur, I can't blame them.
Maybe it's for the best that they go back to their ancestral and primal ways. To feel like a lion in this concrete and noisy jungle.
The only way to avoid being discarded is never to be picked up again.
Maybe some little enthusiastic meows from time to time will give them the touch they so desperately need. But the claws are ready, and have never been trimmed for a reason, not the obvious one.
