I used to live in this little suburb on a small cul-de-sac. All of the cats I have now took up residence with me while I was living there. TBuff was the last to join us and did so while I was in the process of moving.
He showed up one day and my one neighbor, who owned two cats herself, set out a bowl of food for him. I would feed him too if he wandered over but I couldn't leave food out because there was an opportunistic skunk in the woods next to me.
He spent several months in living this way and even returned to us after a well meaning neighbor relocated him to a farm. Yes, indeed, the cat came back.
Then one day-tragedy! I was coming home very late one night and there, there, in the road was a tan and white cat, quite dead. This was out in the country, so no street lights. I parked in the road and got out to investigate. The little body was a mess but it did sort of look like him.
The next morning I went across to Roseann's, my neighbor who would go out for morning coffee obscenely early, and she was so solemn. Yes, she had seen the body and stopped and thought it was our guy.
We were sitting in her living room drinking coffee when I looked out her windoe and there he was, sitting on her lawn washing his ears. We went out and gave him some love and kibble.
Then our neighbor who was feeding him came home from feeding her horses and started walking towards us with this sad face and we knew she had seen the body in the road. We started pointing at our feet, where TBuff was, and shouting, "He's alive! It wasn't him."
A few weeks later when I was packing and the door was open, my cats already relocated to here, he strolled on in and refused to leave. We all discussed his future and the consensus was that he should join the herd. It would save my former neighbors from having to stop and check on feline roadkill in the future.
He loves women especially his new vet, being a housecat, being part of a herd, and right now is washing Dorian.