The seventieth Alabama kitty comes from the alley behind that street and Florida, somewhere between Meade and Madison. My wife and I spotted the black drinking water outside a cottage where another feline looks out from a window (think future feline profile should better photo opportunity present). Our thirsty putty-tat earns nickname Boxer for what the bowl sits on.
For reasons only guessed, I don’t see many putty-tats along Mission Avenue (in this instance near Florida). Among them: Calm, Carl, Digger, Domino, Joy, Luna, Rebel, and Serenity. On Aug. 6, 2021, I spotted another for the first time; he (or she) joins the series as the seventy-fourth feline seen behind door or window.
We celebrate International Cat Day with a shorthair sighted in the same yard where was the fourth feline profiled (Skull) in October 2016. Black-colored Monarch appeared on the same property two years later. I can’t say that either belonged there but express confidence about the newcomer: The home’s front door was open for the kitty to come and go; kids could be heard playing inside.
Silver seems so appropriate nickname—for gradients in the fur. Leica Q2 produced the Featured Image, which underwent unusual amount of post-production tweaking—and nothing to my satisfaction. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 250, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 10:43 a.m. PDT, Aug. 1, 2021.
Only for the second time—Sentinel being the first nearly three years ago—since the series‘ start in October 2016 have I seen a feline along Park Blvd in downtown University Heights. Meet the lonely shorthair that earns nickname Proudfoot. My wife and I met the kitty apparently waiting for someone or something on July 27, 2021.
Late yesterday afternoon, my wife and I walked down the alley separating Louisiana and Texas, where Darth Mew and Princess Leia appeared recently. We hoped to encounter one or the other and expected neither. About half-way down the block, I spotted a pretty Tortoiseshell behind a screen and stopped for a few portraits. Right then, the 87-year-old property owner came out the back gate, and we started chatting. Annie and I met him many moons ago when we toured one of his apartments (which we might have rented had there been more sunlight coming into the bedrooms).
Raised in Michigan farm country, John arrived in San Diego at age 17 and never left. He is fit, with all his wits—meaning sharp and spry in all the ways that matter. While we talked about the shortcomings of modern education—writing proficiently of 1940’s eighth graders compared to high school graduates today—I heard what sounded like a meowing kitty. As we continued, sound increased in volume and intensity until, quite surprisingly, Darth Mew ambled over a six-foot-high fence. Without any elucidation, John said the cat’s mother is buried on his property (but the black longhair lives elsewhere).
On the same block where Goose and Jasmine recently disputed territory lives Samba, whom I met with her owner’s roommate on July 25, 2021. He had her leashed, and she accepted being brushed down to remove shedding fur. Samba (yep, real name) makes the series‘ sixty-ninth profile from Alabama Street between boundaries Adams and Lincoln. I know of at least a half-dozen more beasties, but fleeting sightings aren’t usable portraits.
A few weeks ago, my wife made acquaintance with one of two black putty-tats that live in the same house. I started looking for him and twice saw a shorthair cross the street and jump a fence into a neighbor’s yard. Based on that behavior, he was most likely Loki (I don’t know the other’s name). But on neither instance did I see him upon reaching the location.
Three days ago, as Annie and I approached site of the previous sightings, Loki cautiously crept into the street with nose to the asphalt. There he stopped and sniffed a dead squirrel. Annie stayed on the opposite side of the street, which I crossed bringing me close to the fence. About that time a car came along and the cat fled to safety between two parked vehicles. Then he saw me and surprisingly visited.
When first approaching this kitty, I thought he might be Ginger, who was profiled in the series three years ago. Both appeared along Louisiana Street on either side of Meade—towards El Cajon for the newcomer and closer to Monroe for the other. While the faces bear some similarity, fur markings and tails differ enough for separate identification.
The feline walked uncharacteristically slow—sign of older age—but with sure-footed commanding charisma and presence. That’s why I chose nickname Honcho. I used iPhone XS to capture the Featured Image, today, at 10:57 a.m. PDT. After he swaggered past, Honcho ducked between a hedge and cottage exterior wall. I returned just after six this evening, when many cats would be out and about as sunset approached. He surprised by being still huddled up in the same safe spot. I wouldn’t have seen him if not knowing to look.
The sixty-eighth Alabama Street kitty—this one between Howard and Polk—is also the seventy-second seen behind door or window. The Featured Image and companion won’t win awards for composition, but, hey, you work with what you got—and I had seconds to shoot both portraits because of parking cars. Vitals, same for both, aperture manually set: f/4.5, ISO 100, 1/640 sec, 28mm; 9:50 a.m. PDT, June 30, 2021. I captured a photo of Noir, hours later, along the parallel Florida.
This fine feline earns nickname Posy for the natural bouquet of flowers running up the side of the apartment building. The first crop shows off them more, while the other gives greater attention to Posy. Both come from Leica Q2.
Perhaps on some future day, when I walk down Florida between Meade and Mission, this black shorthair will present for better portrait than the Featured Image. None of the four shots, taken at different approaching distances, is truly sharp. Besides, all the clutter distracts from the subject so much that this edit is 100-percent desaturated.
The portrait disappointingly comes from Leica Q2, which I shouldn’t expect to make up for my shooter shortcomings every time. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 500, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 4:38 p.m. PDT, June 30, 2021. This fine feline earns nickname Noir because of its classic posture (befitting monochrome) and for fur color; the word is French for black.
Happy Caturday! On June 27, 2021, my wife joined me walking by where I had seen Husky nine days earlier. Annie would enjoy visiting the ginger, and I hoped for daylight, rather than twilight, portrait. Instead, a lively kitten, wearing a bell collar, frolicked from under a parked car. He was most energetic and, as such, proved to be a photographic challenge.
The rascal divided his attention between us and two bags of food garbage that somebody left on the sidewalk beside a nearby dumpster. He played, rather than rummaged, about them—upon which he rolled about marking his scent. But he also appeared interested in something, which could have been bugs lured to the refuse. Cats hunt.
On the same block where live (self-relocated) Reddy and his (self-adopted) mate Zero, my wife and I spied a striking Tortoiseshell today. The kitty unsuccessfully tried to come over a wooden gate for pats, which would have allowed me to read her name tag, as well. The tortie returned to a door step, where I got an acceptable portrait by peeking around a fence from an adjacent apartment building parking lot.
I used iPhone XS to capture the Featured Image, which is nearly a 100-percent crop. Vitals: f/2.4, ISO 16, 1/156 sec, 52mm (film equivalent); 4:16 p.m. PDT. While seemingly a contrite choice, this beauty earns nickname Sweetie for colors that remind me of a chocolate-covered peanut butter cup (e.g. Reese’s).