Sneaky answers to all those names.  Mr. L calls her Squeaky (which she is), I originally called her Sneaky when she wouldn’t take the bait in the trap, and she has four white feet, somewhat resembling sneakers, so I sometimes call her Sneakers.  Whatever we call her, we have a healthy, happy outdoor cat who isn’t completely feral and isn’t completely domesticated.  She has clearly set boundaries for interaction, but she seems to do a few things that make me chuckle.  For instance, she seems to like to create the illusion that she’s always under the house, ready to pop up onto the heat pump ductwork at any time.  In reality, she has a pretty good range of activity within the neighborhood.

For instance, one day we left in the truck, realized we’d forgotten something, so we came back home.  We turned the corner just in time to see Sneaky cross the road to check out the bushes by our neighbor’s garage.  After we pulled into the driveway and I stepped out to go in the house to get what we’d forgotten, I saw a streak of Sneaky making a beeline for the back porch steps (which gets her access to under the house where she can, if necessary, non-nonchalantly appear on the heat pump ductwork like she’d never ever left.  She didn’t have to come running back to the house, but for some reason, she chose to do so.

Yesterday, I witnessed her running from the end of the driveway to across the street to stroll up our neighbor’s front walk.  She spend some time over there.  Before heading out to run errands yesterday, I decided to see if she’d come back home or not.  As I walked to the side porch steps, she ran out from under the trailer in the driveway to under my truck to under the side porch to under the house, and, you guessed it, she appeared on the heat pump ductwork, looking innocent.  I swear there was a sheepishness to her look as she stealthed across the driveway to get back into position.

It’s as if the cat leads multiple lives.  In one, she’s a neighborhood queen making the rounds.  In another, she’s anxiously awaiting our next moment of attention.

Mr. L has come home in the afternoon and seen her sprawled in the side yard in a Sphinx-like posture taking in her surroundings — as he described like, like Hershey when he was at the ranch — Queen of All She Surveys.

I sometimes go to the shed to get something out, and she’ll drop out of the pecan tree.  She’s a confident, self-contained kitty, and if we’re not sitting on the top step of the side porch, we’re not getting near her to rub her ears.

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