Along a stretch of Mission Avenue not far from the temporarily closed Valero gas station, on Feb. 26, 2019, I spotted a black-and-white that waited nobly statuesque along a door step. The kitty stayed still for several portraits, including the Featured Image and its companion—both taken using Fujifilm GFX 50R and Fujinon GF63mmF2.8 R WR lens. Vitals for the first, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/200 sec, 63mm; 10:43 a.m. PST.

Spring foliage is lush all around San Diego because of ongoing heavy rains. The second photo is cropped to capture a different moment—of untypically brash green growth that elsewhere in the county could in autumn become dry tinder that feeds ravaging wildfires. Vitals are same, except 1/170 sec.

Dare I present another Alabama Street cat? The thirty-second? Recently, I have expanded my feline photo walks into rarely traversed parts of the neighborhood—like the many dead-end roadways—desperately searching for someplace that can match Alabama’s kitty sightings. Nowhere comes close, and I still cannot explain why.

That said, today’s beastie, whom I nickname Sly, was long sought after—and perhaps only a saddening situation could reveal him (or her). Late-summer 2018, I caught a brief look at the animal as it slinked down apartment complex stairs next door to where live Laramie and Lupe. While presenting glimpses a couple more times, the Siamese proved to be too skittish and quick-moving for my camera. Until yesterday. 

The Alabama cat contingent continues, with the thirty-first sighted along the street between its boundaries of Adams and Lincoln. Yesterday, as we walked to Smart & Final, my wife saw a putty-tat scurry among parked cars across the roadway. I pulled around Fujifilm GFX 50R, with attached Fujinon GF63mmF2.8 R WR lens, and approached the building, which is the same one where lives the kitty I call Dizzy. The shorthair retreated to a spot before the apartment complex’s security gate, which access to me was blocked by the mailman filling boxes.

He left. Feline and human regarded one another. A few meows later, the shorthair let me move in close to offer pats and to read the name tag (Mao). Snap. Snap. Two satisfying shots later, a quandary came: Should I let Mao inside the courtyard, by way of the unsecure security door? I pulled slightly open, and the friendly furball nosed forward. I closed in doubt, then let Mao through. The kitty crossed to a stair and climbed to the second level, where home awaited. (I hope.)