The mental floss for the mind started with Zorro. He was outside in the cold trying to prove he was a Big Boy like Whiskey although Whiskey was not around to witness his heroism. When I opened the front door for the third time at 3 a.m., he dashed inside and ran for my bed.
I was unable to go back to sleep because he was purring like an outboard motor with a bad set of spark plugs. Staring into the dark, I dumpster dived through all the mental flotsam and jetsam that floats through our heads.
Thinking about Whiskey, I wondered how domesticated stray cats look for a new household. Big Foot watched me from across the property for a long time before he ventured up to the porch for my food offering. The food coaxed Whiskey from the bushes in front of my house. I looked at him in amazement and asked, “Where did you come from?”
I couldn’t help but wonder how two stray cats showed up at MY door when the houses of Poppie and Country Boy, both cat people, were 80 feet away. Did I have a special cat people smell? Did I have an invisible antenna sending out cat radar?
The internet doesn’t seem to know how we get chosen unless I was looking in all the wrong places. If you find out, please enlighten me.