Never blog at 1:00 am after two glasses of wine.

Just over a week ago, Mark mentioned that the neighbor's cat was hanging around. A few nights later I noticed her waiting for me at around 2:00 am when I checked the cat facility. She was standing in the middle of the road when I came out, switching her tail, a pretty orange and white longhaired girl.

And so she was the next night, when I chased her out of the road so an oncoming car would not hit her. Instead of running toward home, she ran up the driveway under Mark's car.

And there she was again, the following night.

And then, as she switched her tail at me and gave a little meow the fourth night, I suddenly (with incredible dawning remembrance) realized this cat had a tail.

The neighbor's cat does not. The neighbor's cat is a Manxy little girl.

And she was no she. This cat is a He, or so I assume with those big cheeks now that I have looked more closely at "her."

So here is our annual frost-brought Tom Cat, who has stopped his wanderings to visit our porch for Nicki's dry-food leavings. Is he a displaced Tom who traveled here on his own? Or a dumped cat? Well, he's no feral, because he meows, and hangs out within only 15 feet of me.

Sigh.

It's been a tough week for many people I know. It has been harder on other people than me, which has made my own gripes seem lighter in comparison. My own complaints become tiny things compared to other people who are truly dealing with difficulties this month. I wish I had more options of offering help.

There are times when you wish you indeed had a magic wand that could cure ills. But Harry Potter we ain't.

This orange and white fluffy cat with the switching tail appears only after 1:00 am...and is here faithfully, every night. His white fur glows in the darkness, and his fur is so light and fluffy it is like a halo around him.

He adds one more dilemma to my life.

Normally, I would consider it a big dilemma. Yet another cat. Another damned unexpected cat.

But in the larger scheme of things, he is such a little thing. Such a small problem to be solved, when others are facing more insurmountable hurdles.

So I have given him a name.

I have named him Angel.

Tonight I talked to him. He was perched in the darkness on the fence of the Cat Garden where several feline souls (and a fox or two) are buried. Switching his tail. Defying death. Being...well....a cat. He's a handsome fellow, with a story I'll never know. Not feral, when I finally set a trap for him, he'll probably push against my hands for a scritch, and follow up with a hearty swat, being a free soul.

"Angel" seems to fit him. Well, perhaps "Angel" just fit the moment, and he happened along at that moment.

I hope he brings along good luck to those who need it now. I'd like to pretend he's not just cat, because there are a few people who could use a miracle or two.

Some people could use an angel tonight.