She's a playful one, this street cat who roams about near the officetel.
A couple of times she's been entranced by my glitter nail polish and tried to catch my hand. A couple of times too she's stepped on the bottom of my wide legged pants, tripped me over my slippers and scratched the (new) rubber of my colleague's sneaker shoe.
That's not counting the times when she contentedly perched herself on top of a pillar and observed us look into house gates, peer under cars and peek into drains whilst calling out her nickname and meowing away.
And yes, although we don't expect her to be hanging around the same old-same old area whenever we pass by- she is a free roam cat with lots and lots of friends- it is a laugh-cry thing altogether when on a fairly warm, sunny day, the cat decides to take cover beneath a pile of leaves and no amount of stroking, playful nudging or high pitched meowing will get her out.
