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A good-sized black and white tuxedo feral cat sits in the woods, thinking he cannot be seen.
This is one of those cats that lives on the periphery of the feral cat colony. He (I think it's a tom) may even have a home - or did at one time. Or maybe he's always been feral. He keeps his distance. He looks well-fed though maybe he has someone else to feed him...or he sneaks in when I'm not looking to grab whatever is available. Or maybe he's a great hunter.
Every once in a while a frightened, half-starved cat will show up in the colony. Almost certainly, it was dumped by someone at a nearby dairy farm in the mistaken belief that the cat would be "fine" somehow. As I've said before, it doesn't work that way. Most dumped cats (don't call them "strays" - they didn't voluntarily leave their home as that word implies) face a slow death from starvation. A few lucky ones make it here.
However he got here, at least this tuxedo cat is doing well now.
You know, you are so right about the word "stray." It does imply that the cat just decided to stroll away one day. "Dumped" really is the sad truth.
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