I live upstairs from a grumpy cat. No, not the grumpy cat but rather a very neurotic, possibly bipolar cat.
Delilah the cat used to be owned by our neighbor across the way. When the neighbor died, Delilah was left here. No one claimed her. Our downstairs neighbor who had recently moved in, took the cat in. For the longest time, Delilah would visit her previous owner’s porch and wait.
This was 4 years ago. Now Delilah has bonded with her new owners. Delilah and I share the same outdoor space. She loves sleeping in the hibiscus plant (difficult to water with a cat in the pot) and lounging on the stairs (hard to pass when she flips out if I come towards her). Delilah comes when the neighbor calls her. She just stares at me in contempt. Delilah meows for her owner. She only meows when I feed her from a safe distance and then she runs away.
I still think of Delilah as partly mine since my roommate and I have known her for seven years, longer than anyone else in the building. And yet, her most caring emotion is mild tolerance of me.
But every morning I say hello and often I take the long route to the mailbox just to look for her.
I love Delilah and I’m glad she tolerates me sometimes.