UMBRA.

HE LIVES.

😻​😻​😻​😻​😻​

Remember the little black kitten from next door who we took indoors when it got chilly last fall... and then he disappeared the next day, when he tried to follow us up the block and then ran off to explore the bushes?

Remember all the agony and guilt I went through? The week and a half of sullenly walking up Banks Street (aka Umbra Alley) shaking jingly toys and food boxes, literally praying to Bast he hadn't fallen down some sewer somewhere? The crushing loss of woo-faith when Peg put up an altar to St. Expedite with all of Umbra's favorite toys and NOTHING SEEMED TO HAPPEN and it just sat there barren?

Well, Peg got a random notion to go out and order pickup from the local cafe this morning. And Umbra Alley is on the way. And... do I even need to finish this story? 😺​

Y'all know me. I was a little skeptical. It couldn't be that easy. But he came RIGHT UP to us, flopped and purred. He's damn near the exact size of his brother Shemp -- big fit and healthy dude -- and has the exact telltale patch of white on his chest and his mom Shadow's eyes. He even flops just like Shemp, master of the Collapsible Tiger Style of kung fu. 😻​

And then he retreated a little when a car nearby started up. The driver turned out to be his new Food Lady, nice gal named Brenda. He showed up as a kitten last November, mewling pitifully on her porch. Telegram records show he disappeared around 11/18.

He's good. He's real good. She says he'd just had his daily spoonful of _pate_ FFS. He tried to follow us home like six times and I insisted on carrying him back each time, 'cause Umbra my dude, we love you and will come by weekly for scritches but YOU HAVE A GOOD THING GOING.

So yeah.

Never give up. Umbra turned out to be a scrapper. We're scrappers too.