That cat.

The cat chose to come back tonight.

 I was ready. I bought him some catfood. He took one sniff at it and chose not to eat, doubtless disdainful: "Yesterday it was a can of tuna for lunch and a fair amount of ham for supper. What is this 9 Lives garbage, lady?"

After choosing not to eat,  he chose to wander off to deliver a screaming butt kicking to a neighbor cat who had strolled over with the intent of being the butt kicker, not the butt kickee.

I don't think he is a bad cat. I think he had an unfortunate kittenhood. I find myself a bit worried. Tim has no patience for cheerful, good natured cats. He'll have even less patience for a juvenile delinquent cat with gourmet tastebuds and maladaptive behaviors.

I've been digging lilac suckers and setting them out front near the sidewalk. A woman asked me how much I wanted for them. "Pllt," I said, "you don't charge for what God's giving you free." She was happy and took two peonies too.

 It tickled me to watch a man carefully carry off a small basket of lily of the valley and pachysandra. He carefully returned the little empty basket.