It is about the art of caring.

Spilt is a male black cat with a blue lace around his neck, owned by a group of teenagers across the street from my building. Maybe they are too busy, we always see Spilt wanders around our neighbourhood. Seasonal vagrant? Perhaps.

Then one by one people living in my building (they live in different units) started to feed him: milk, bread, biscuits, cat food, cat treats, plus: a little bit of pat. There is also a white ceramic bowl near the entrance downstairs. It is Spilt’s, our (seasonal) pet. It’s ours, Split’s (seasonal) owner(s). Everyone can use the same ceramic bowl to feed him.

Somehow, we – the tenants, started to talk to each other: “Have you fed him today?”, then “Hey, good morning. How are you? Have a good one.” Some of us have never talked to each other before. But now, we do: because of Spilt the cat.


3 thoughts on “S-P-I-L-T

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