I would open the front door to admit Loaner for breakfast. She still belonged next door at the time but she was coming to me more and more, beginning with breakfast. And she would follow my car to the garage where I would just happen to have a new-bought supply of shrimp to serve her.
There was usually plenty of shrimp to go around. Pinky, my tortoiseshell, had hers on the kitchen windowsill, where she, canny pussycat that she was, would go to have the treat without interference.
Tango, if he was home at the time, joined in the feast. In Meow’s Way Redux I have chronicled these pussycats and Pinky’s romance with Oliver, a visitor who came everyday in courtship.
I hold Tango and Pinky in memory, where they now repose.