Longing

A ginger, polydactyl kitty has been visiting my house in the evening. One of my cats will simply gaze and him/her, while the other will actively attack the window, will all manner of puffy-tailed goings-on and spitting. Ginger responds to both as though s/he was a mirror to them, hissing or gazing. When I first saw him/her, s/he was willing to let me pet his/her long, silky hair, though not closely enough to answer the gender question. His/her firm, round tummy suggested a cat of leisurely means, like mine, or a cat about to give birth under my deck (which has been frustratingly sealed shut... the builder had no foresight when s/he screwed the front lattice on, then covered it with the supports for the railing). But Ginger comes by, and sometimes looks young, sometimes looks feral, sometimes looks loving, and last night, looked terribly old and frail. It has snowed a few times since I first saw him/her, and could trace his/her prints in the snow to the side of the deck where s/he might be going to die or give birth. It's anyone's guess.