Goldie is not showing up. She is a little wild cat that comes to feed on our porch. A while ago, she was injured: she kept her back leg painfully pulled up to her body and didn't put any weight on it. She stopped leaving our yard, just stayed behind a bush by the fence. Dr. Park, who said that he didn't like cats and wrinkled his nose every time Chickie or Sylvie came too close to him, that Dr. Park started to feed Goldie. After a week or so, he didn't feel right if he didn't see her in the morning. Every time he spotted her, limping towards the food bawl, he would run to the glass door to the porch, yelling: "Goldie, Goldia!" Most of the time he scared her off, and she would dart off until she made sure that he stayed on the other side of the glass. He also calls his wife, Roberta, and she hobbles over just to watch a small animal eat and excitedly discuss her progress. Another cat, Dr. Park calls her Snow White, also comes to eat from the same bowl as Goldie. For some reason, Goldie doesn't mind her, even when she shows up at the same time as her. Perhaps, they are from the same mother.
Now Goldie is OK. We see her running, hunting the moles and jumping over the fence. She ranges farther and farther away from our yard. I am happy for her, but Dr. Park feels a sense of loss. He started to branch off to my cats: by that I mean that he tries to befriend them. Of course, he doesn't understand that, you don't pick up a cat by the legs, or, when you hold one, its not a good idea to squeeze it too hard. Chickie runs from him, like heck, unless Dr. Park gives him some "people's food". Sylvie always stays wary of Dr. Park. He was the one who banished her from Roberta's room. When he make overtures to her, she looks at him, unblinking, and growls. He dislikes her eyes. They are really, really beautiful, clear and green, but its true: the looks that she gives him can put shivers in your timbers. In fact, those are just like the looks that my mom used to give us, when she was displeased!