Jingle, jingle, jingle.

I get off the couch and open the apartment door. “Well, hello there, sweet thing,” I say. She struts right in, just like she lives here.

And she did, once.

Every other day she comes jingling up the stairs (her collar is adorned with bells) and sits outside our door. After I let her in, she walks around, surveying all the rooms to find out if they’re how she left them last (they’re messier). She’ll even poke around in the bathroom cabinets – as if she was on her own little scavenger hunt.

Bella belonged to the tenants who used to live in our apartment. When they moved out, they abandoned her. The woman in the apartment two doors down from us has cared for her ever since.

Bella weaves though our legs looking for affection. She’s very vocal, and mews often – for what exactly, we’re not sure.

Dana thinks she’s looking for her old owners. Is it possible that she misses them?

How could she miss someone who disowned her?

How could anyone with even half a heart just abandon a sweet face like this?

I for one, am delighted to treat her as my own, whenever she comes around to give me the chance. ☼