Of course, I'm not going to let her run off like that! She's a kitten for goodness sake! And not to mention, she's the first friendly cat I've met since my parents died.
When I catch up to her I stop and walk along with her. "Where're you going?" I ask.
"Home," she says.
"You don't have a home to run off to, if you're like me, unless you count the dumpster."
She cocks her head to one side. "True, but I could tell you were getting annoyed at me, so I decided to leave."
I don't reply to that.
"Why're you following me?"
"It's best if cats like us stick together. We are stronger when we have numbers; we can protect each other from thugs like the one who attacked you."
She does the head-cocking thing again as she answers: "I don't see another cat 'sticking' to you. In fact you're the one 'sticking'."
Again, I don't have an answer.
