Buster

OK, a can of sardines for the feral cats once in a while won’t spoil them. I head down to the wood pile where they hang out and of course Buster comes to greet me. He’s the least wild, and will always check out anyone who happens by. I put my hand down and he butts it with his head. He knows what I have, and wants to make sure he gets first crack. I give him a few strokes on his head, he accepts them.

I open the sardines (these are the cheap ones - yech!) and put one in one of the dishes that are spread around. The other cats check me out but stay away. I spread the rest of the sardines over the remaining dishes and the cats quietly begin to eat. I spend a little time watching them, they polish off their treat pretty quickly. Buster comes over again, looking for seconds. I give him a quick pat and say: “That's it pal… ”

As I walk away, Buster hops up on the big stump and begins to groom himself.

I have one true friend in the world - as long as I have sardines.