Cattoo artist

Apparently, my house is a magnet for homeless cats, because we're on our third guest now.

He's the cutest guy, a petite little orange cat. We'd seen him before, dining with our second homeless cat, George. But when George moved on to a new home, the petite cat disappeared.

Until now...he recently re-appeared at the kitchen door, where my cousin Kathleen took pity on him. She started feeding him, so he kept coming back. Now he shows up each morning, and sometimes evenings, with the softest little meow you've ever heard. It almost looks like he's not meowing at all, just going through the motions.

He was very shy at first, scurrying away as soon as we opened the door, and he wouldn't let us pet him. Eventually, because she feeds him every day, he let Kathleen (but only Kathleen) pet him. So I was surprised one day when he walked right up to me, meowed loudly, then rolled over and let me scratch him.

"Your little cat isn't shy anymore," I told Kathleen. "And he meowed at me really loud!"

"I don't think it's the same cat," she answered. "There's another cat who looks like him, and they're confusing me!"

"That's Chloe's new cat," Mark said, pointing to the neighbor kid. "He looks just like your cat, Kathleen."

"I knew it!" Kathleen exclaimed, shaking an angry fist in the air. She doesn't mind feeding a hungry wild cat, but wasn't about to feed someone else's freeloading feline.

Over the next couple days, both cats appeared. I couldn't tell them apart, and suspected Kathleen couldn't either.

"Yes, I can," Kathleen answered when I asked her. "Because I marked mine blue."

"You what?" I asked. I wasn't sure I'd heard correctly.

"I marked him," she repeated. "On the neck. With a blue pen."

"It was a dry erase pen," she quickly added, when she saw my jaw drop. "I couldn't find a Sharpie."

"You drew on the cat?" I asked.

"Just so I could tell them apart!" she said. "I'm gonna get him a collar."

I couldn't even stifle a giggle; I laughed right out loud.

"He just let you draw on him?" I asked.

"Yup, he thought I was petting him," she said.

She made it sound like she's just marked him with a blue dot. But the next day, when the little cat appeared at the door, the front half of his back was all red. I just looked at Kathleen.

She shrugged. "The blue ink came off," she said, holding up a red dry erase pen.

"Yeah, but half his back is red!" I exclaimed. She just shrugged again.

I gave her one of my cat's old collars, and Kathleen put it on him. She also gave him a  name--Jack. And though Jack was a bit peeved about the collar at first, he's forgiven Kathleen, and still arrives daily at our doorstep with his little meow and big appetite.

I don't mind our daily visitor. I think he looks pretty snazzy in his new blue collar, but mostly I'm just glad he lost his colorful temporary tattoos.