The Bully

As cats can sense a bleeding heart, it was only a matter of time before one of the vagrants moved in with me.  And, as with all cat love stories, this one begins with kitty treats.

Last summer, I made a habit of providing evening treats.  I tried to be fair, divvying portions of the kibble equally among the hungry mongrels.  But one large, scratched up black cat with fierce yellow eyes and overly prominent cheekbones was always at my fingertips, attempting to claw out the eyes of any other that approached.

As it turned out, this cat had a sad, sad story.  According to the neighbors, she lived in the white and burgundy trailer due south of me until the owner died in a motorcycle accident, leaving her abandoned. So, I took her in, christened her Missy T, and fed her until she got fat.

That is until I took her to the vet to get spade, only to find out Missy was a Mister.

So now he's just called "T", also referred to by the neighborhood as "Black Baby", "Midnight", and "Jack."

Still a loner and a bully, he's a bit more tolerant of the other cats.  He are some pictures of him giving us the stink eye: