Thor Thpots.

This isn't Thor. I got this off the internet. Thor is smaller and thinner.

When did I become such a sap? Yes, this is a cat blog, but no, it's not about Spartacus Jones or Freya. It's about an orange cat with orange eyes I've named 'Thor'.

The first time I saw him, he was sitting in our driveway with Spartacus and our neighbor's cat 'Charlie'. He was skinny, skittish and didn't have a collar, so naturally, I had to try to befriend him.

Cats without collars stress me out. All I can think about is...Are you abandoned? Do you have a safe place? Are you hungry?

We've been feeding him. He lets us touch him, and Spartacus will actually watch him wolf down food without getting territorial or jealous. In fact, Thor follows Spartacus right into the yard. I think Spartacus wants a little brother. He never gets nasty with Thor.

Thor is polite, even though his table manners are atrocious. He scarfs down his food, rubs around my husband and I, chirps a little thank you and runs away. He's made it as close as the porch, but won't come in.

I worry. I hurt for the little beast, but my husband is far more stoic. Thor seems more like an actual stray than an abandoned cat. He's thin, skittish and clearly not fixed. (Is it normal for cats to have testicles the size of peach pits?) He's a little warrior.

Dan reminds me that this is his normal life, being outdoors foraging or scavenging food. He doesn't know he's missing anything. The weather is nice, and Thor doesn't seem to be suffering. He isn't cold, and he probably has a good hiding place during the day. We always have water out. Nights have been nice.

I've been reminding myself I have time to gain his trust. Summers are short in my province, but I have at least three months before the weather gets ugly. Maybe by then, he'll be ready. Maybe not. In the meantime, I'll just keep leaving a dish of wet food on my porch. I'll keep looking for that empty dish in the morning. I'll keep searching for a little patch of orange.