Orion uncurled herself and sat up. Her head cocked, she stared intently in the direction of the door to the apartment before leaping off the couch and hurrying to the middle of the living room, where she could look beyond the gap in the door frame and into the common corridor. Craning her neck as high as it could go, she peered out, swishing her tail as she did so.

She would do that everytime someone walked past, so I thought nothing of it and resumed eating my dinner. Seconds later, I heard the furious tinkling of her collar bell as she bolted off into the dining room.

The next sound I heard was not from Orion.

I looked to the door. There, on the threshold and on the floor mat, stood a black-and-white cat, her front paws close together, her beautiful long tail coyly wrapped around her feet. I recognized her, a stray new to the neighborhood; I spotted her a couple of days ago, roaming the grounds of the little park next to my block.

Too surprised to react, I could only stare in disbelief. She blinked her big round eyes and meowed once more. Then, without the slightest hint of wariness, she took another step forward.

I got up and reached for both my camera and the kibbles jar…