For a long time, Lydia had my back yard all to herself. I've been feeding feral cats out there for an awfully long time and I usually had a few lurking about…but when it came down to just Lydia, I started thinking that maybe she'd be the last. I thought that once she died or disappeared, as feral cats eventually do, I'd stop putting food out there. Raccoons and possums and sometimes even crows wind up eating as much of it as the cats do.
Then around February, a new cat began stopping in. Unsure at first whether it was a male or female, I named it Murphy. Murphy howls a lot but she — I finally decided it was a she — seemed to be well-behaved. It wouldn't let me get within ten feet of her but it also wouldn't get in the way of me feeding Lydia. I'd set out a bowl of chow and Murphy would wait until Lydia had had enough and then when Lydia left the feeding area, Murphy would sneak up and wolf down whatever remained in the dish. Like I said, well-behaved.
But not lately. Lately, I put out the food for Lydia and Murphy sits there, a few feet away, growling and meowing and putting out vibes that yell, "Hey! Hurry it up! Some of us are hungry!" And as the growls get louder, Lydia finally flees and Murphy scampers up and devours every single scrap of what's edible in that dish. The dish itself is metal or else she might take a bite out of it.
Then when Murphy finishes, she howls for more…but it's a self-defeating demand. When I do step out onto the porch to get the dish for refilling purposes, Murphy flees from me, sprinting clear out of the yard. I fill it, put it back out on the porch and Lydia wanders back up to finish dining. I suppose it all works out okay.
By the way: As I mentioned, when the new cat began showing up in my yard, I named it Murphy. That same cat has also been seen in my neighbors' yard and they also gave it a name. Want to guess what they named her? Murphy. They also named her Murphy. I guess there's just something very Murphy about her.