She stole into our apartment night before yesterday. Had obviously been a pet of the previous owners, the way she rubs herself against the furniture, the way she looked quizzically - almost accusingly - at us in the beginning.
She is curiously familiar, her color exactly the color of Frodo, and this makes me foolishly fond of her. I think I remind her how to play again, hiding a lolly stick behind slippers, with a rolled up newspaper, tap-tapping on chairs till she goes quite bananas. This morning, the chair was strangely warm when I sat on it, and then I saw something padding by. Kitty, now called Malia ("queen" in Swahili) walked nonchalantly and settled herself on the verandah.