There's an old gray
cat that wanders the
neighborhood.
Neutered and wild
green eyes.
He's confident, and
thick,
doesn't trust humans
but loves tuna.
I don't blame him.
I have three female
cats that watch him through
the window, wagging their
slim tails.
He couldn't care less.

I call him Bubba.
His head is the size of
a grapefruit.
Half of one ear is gone.
I put food out for him.
He waits until I go inside
to eat it.
He's tough.
Lived a rough life.
I can tell, I've been down
some of the same
back roads as him,
slept in similar
alleys.

But no one has
taken my *****

yet.