Crow Cat

Sonny comes and goes. He turned up in the rain last night and immediately demanded his dinner. I blame his mother. He is completely unreconstructed. I put down some food for him and briefly touched his head. He gave me a soundless hiss.
“Listen mate,” I told him, “I haven’t ever hurt you or tried to, you demand meals and I feed you with no strings attached, how about some reciprocative politeness?” He gave me a narrow eyed look and tucked into his Whiskas.
He was around today too. At half past six this morning he trotted into the garden where I had escorted MasterB and gave me his corvine miaow. Was he raised by ravens? If so, does the Spanish proverb hold good?*
He’s a handsome beast though.

Son of Crows?

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