Il Gatto Pensive

With a sweeping vista of the space below him, Pusa puts his paws up on the grill and watches the commotion (or lack thereof) in the surrounding area.


I sit and watch him, as he watches the neighbors, the kids playing and the construction workers milling to and from their barracks and makeshift apartments next door.


What do cats think about?  Do they also realize they've had too much to eat? or plan out their next 'spot to visit' as they sit there seemingly bored with everything that is happening around them?  

The condo cats live quite an interesting life - only slightly less dangerous than purely stray-street-cats, since they have shelter of sorts from the rain, and a good chance of free food given either at the fire escape by other residents, or access to the garbage bin behind the building.
Cosmopolitan in their habits - since Pusa - has gone up and into the elevator with me on several ocassions. YES, he knows to ride an elevator! and I have in fact, opened my door to find this furry friend mewling loudly while he lays stretched out on the doormat of our unit. Seems they find their way around well enough, and are tolerated by most people here.  The dog-killing incident of several months ago seems a distant memory, as my mom is quick to point out that the maintenance and security personnel are more careful about getting themselves in trouble again (I called the local police to investigate when I heard the sound of a dog that howled in distress - it turns out this dog was killed because he was a 'threat' to people - i was thinking he was being considered an appetizer for the next drinking spree.  I made sure they buried him as I watched silently.)
I don't think life would be simpler if I was a stray animal, but I think there would definitely be less to worry about.  Oh, i wouldn't have a facebook account or tweet or plurk if I was a stray cat - even if I lived in a condominium complex.

As a condo cat, I'd just have to learn real quickly WHO among the residents I can trust, which floors serve the best leftovers and which landing on the fire escape provides the best respite from the elements.  
Cushy life. 
Unless I decide to cross the street, then I'd have to look out for cars that speed by every few minutes, I think I'd have it pretty good as a condo cat.
Of course, it would be better if there was one particular place I could call home.
However, things being what they are, I've got little to complain about.  
We're all still alive.  That's what counts.