This morning, while we walked along Meade, my wife spotted a grey kitty across the street, nearby a gent whom we had spoken to once many moons ago. Turns out, the slender beauty belongs to him. Meet 13 year-old Lily, who appeared in nearly the same spot as Mittens in October 2017.
I used iPhone XS to capture the Featured Image and its companion. Both portraits are composed as shot. Vitals: f/1.8, ISO 25, 1/1282 sec, 26mm (film equivalent); 9:24 a.m. PDT. The other is same except for 1/1136 sec.
For this fine first Caturday in May, I present a portrait of our kitties rather than one from my “Cats of University Heights” series. Neko sits atop the Casabelle Mail Center purchased from Pier 1 […]
Who would have guessed? Another Bella lives on Alabama—and about a block separates the kitties. The new gal is the fiftieth feline seen on the street, between boundaries Adams and Lincoln; her namesake was profiled in November 2017. Bella, Too lives in the same apartment complex as Penny and where once resided Pedro; he has gone to live with his owner’s parents, whose place provides more run-around space.
The pretty Tuxedo is 15 years old, curious, and energetic. Problem: She recently started having sporadic seizures, that increased from one every few weeks to about every day. Preliminary diagnosis: Brain tumor. I could see during my conversation with her dad how much the affliction bothers him. Which leads into a strange side benefit to the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)—aka COVID-19—lockdown: Working from home means he can monitor her condition, and (my words, not his) maybe ensure she lives longer.
Not long after the series featured Steppy seven months ago, I observed his buddy nearby. But Spring 2020 would come before I snagged even a remotely usable portrait. Look carefully at the Featured Image, and you will discern a second cat on the can; the beasties await their supper on April 7. Pardon the mess, which includes strewn wet food cans; heavy rains fell that day and the previous one. Vitals: f/2.4, ISO 16, 1/392 sec, 52mm (film equivalent); 4:59 p.m. PDT; iPhone XS.
The black earns nickname Dusky for color and early darkening of the late-afternoon sky stemming from imposing storm clouds on March 31, when I used Leica Q2 to capture the companion. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/11, ISO 200, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 5:04 p.m.
Walking anchors my exercise routine, which should be obvious from how my skulking around has generated 334 putty-tat profiles for this series since October 2016. However, “social distancing” and “shelter-in-place” orders, in response to SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)—also known as COVID-19, mean fewer forays and more sojourns along alleys between streets; foot traffic is less and wide berth makes easier separating from others when encountering them. The change in habit means my discovering more alley cats, generally looking out from within an apartment, like recent inductees Mustachio and Tang.
On March 23, 2020, I used iPhone XS to capture the Featured Image in the alley separating Campus and Cleveland, between Madison and Monroe. Vitals: f/2.4, ISO 16, 1/373 sec, 52mm (film equivalent); 12:33 p.m. PDT. The portrait is cropped, with Vivid filter applied in Apple Photos. The kitty, which earns nickname Birdy for what he (or she) spied, is sixty-first seen behind window or door.
Like Sprint, today’s kitty appeared in the alley between Georgia and Park Blvd. We first met on March 31, 2020, but subsequent sightings suggest that home is one of the houses along Spalding Place, not far from where my wife and I saw Mewl in February 2019.
I used Leica Q2 to shoot the Featured Image, but the shorthair is nicknamed for the red blossoms in the companion photo, which is the stronger of the pair. Vitals for both, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/320 sec, 28mm; 11:12 a.m. PDT for the first, and 17-seconds later for the other.
In February 2019, a gent moved from my neighborhood to Arizona, abandoning his two outdoor cats and goldfish. (He did take the dog!) The perennial renter of 17 years left behind a ramshackle residence for his landlord to sell and animals for the real estate agent to dispatch. She should be thanked for taking responsibility for them.
I was quite familiar with the kitties—Lupe and Laramie—which had been profiled in my “Cats of University Heights” series. The realtor trapped the pair, and my wife and I helped care for them until the fine folks from Rescue House took them away. For the full saga, please see “Lupe’s Last Day“. Periodically, I checked the RH website, only to be disappointed that nobody had taken them. Eleven months passed before the two would finally be adopted. Together!
Sometimes you get one shot—and with some neighborhood felines none other. Such is the case with the tabby I spotted in the alley between Georgia and Park Blvd. on March 29, 2020. The shorthair moved quickly past as I walked in the other direction, stopping briefly when my iPhone XS appeared. One click later, he (or she) disappeared into a carport. I would be surprised to see the animal again.
Sprint seems appropriate nickname—for the kitty’s quick pace and because the Olympics were on my mind at the time; four days earlier, the 2020 games were postponed a year because of the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)—also known as COVID-19—pandemic, which has altered my walk routine. Californians are asked to stay at home (e.g., “shelter in place“) and to go out sparingly; exercise is one approved activity, and I mostly use alleys to avoid other people. Hence, the chance Sprint sighting.
I sometimes wonder if assigning a number would be best when an animal’s real name is unknown. Cat 1, or 12, or 149. My made-up choice won’t be right and might even offend the beastie’s owner should he or she see the profile. Setting, or perceived character, often determines my choice, which in this instance is Pebbles. I suppose Woody would work, too. Chipper and Rocky already have been used—moniker and real, respectively—and Stone or Stoner seem inappropriate.
While my wife and I walked up Madison, on March 28, 2020, Pebbles appeared from behind some shrubs, strutting deliberately to a determined destination. We were midway between Cleveland and Maryland on the opposite side of the street; I crossed in time to snag three quick snaps using iPhone XS. Turns out the tabby had some, ah, business to do in the wood chips. I stopped shooting soon as that activity became apparent.
Walking outdoors is challenging, with so many businesses shut down, and, as such, a large number of San Diegians trying to “shelter in place” but, understandably, going out with their dogs or to grab some fresh air/exercise. The other order for the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2), also known as COVID-19, pandemic: “social distancing“, which for the Wilcox family means mostly walking in alleys behind streets, where fewer people go and making space from them is much easier than would be along cramped sidewalks—or even stepping into bike lanes.
Unsurprisingly, I am discovering a fresh batch of indoor kitties looking out onto the alleys. That brings us to the third consecutive feline that is behind window or door and was seen along/behind Alabama Street—sixtieth and forty-ninth, respectively, for the series to date. On March 22, 2020, I spotted the cat on the stretch between Madison and Mission.
The Alabama (number forty-eighth) and behind window or door (fifty-ninth) kitty run continues with the second of three—and maybe four. This handsome second-floor looker earns nickname Mustachio, for what should be obvious reason. While first-in-the-set Mercy looked out onto Alabama, this beastie has a view of the alley from an apartment building on the street.
On March 3, 2020, I spotted Mustachio watching workmen renovate a building on the other side of the alley and facing Mississippi. I used iPhone XS to capture the Featured Image at 11:24 a.m. PST. Vitals: f/2.4, ISO 16, 1/781 sec, 52mm (film equivalent).
As my wife and I walked along Monroe today, a voice called from behind: “Hey, there’s something I have to tell you about Bruce“—not an exact quote but the gist is right. She approached, with her dog leashed and the tabby trotting behind. He was profiled for my “Cats of University Heights” series in May 2017.
Three days ago, someone came pounding frantically on her door, agitated: “Something happened to Bruce”. The tiger tabby likes to hang out and watch the kids at a nearby daycare, and he had stretched out on the sidewalk waiting for them to come outdoors to play. They didn’t, as the place is temporarily closed—along with most other businesses in the city because of state and county orders that everyone should “stay at home” as a means of slowing spread of SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2), better known as COVID-19.