Mooky's stomach was growling like Kenny's dog. Now that the adrenaline from being chased by the aforementioned mongrel was ebbing away, hunger took over full force, setting his belly a-trembling.

Mousetails! he thought to himself as he padded from underneath the sedan. I'm going to starve if I don't find something to eat around here!

He moved into the street and glanced forlornly over at One-ear's house: that fluffing Kitten was still eating, and One-ear had joined him. As if sensing someone watching, One-ear looked up and narrowed his eyes at Mooky, and Mooky hurried into the next yard. Definitely won't be getting anything from that cheapskate.

He was considering the unsavory notion of trying to catch a bird or a squirrel when a delicious scent reached his nose. Cat food!

Letting his nose guide him, he moved towards a house further down the cul-de-sac. It was a large, beige two-story abode, and a giant tree grew up from the middle of the yard, its trunk curling outward as it went up and casting a large shadow upon the house.

The scent of cat food was coming from the porch; Mooky spotted an old woman there, hunched over and scraping some mushy substance into a ceramic bowl situated by the railing.

Score!

Mooky waited for the woman to go back inside the house before he stalked forward, his mouth watering as the scent of the food grew stronger and stronger. He scaled the steps of the porch and peeked over the rim of the bowl. It was filled with meaty cat food, and the mouth-watering aroma made his stomach growl more fiercely than ever.

He was bending over, about to take a bite, when a hostile voice spoke up behind him: "Can I help you with something, youngster?"

Mooky bristled and turned to see a cat sitting on the opposite end of the porch, in a rocking chair by the railing. His presence took Mooky completely by surprise: he certainly hadn't smelled cat on the way up the steps. But then, his nose had been filled with the smell of cat food.

"Uh, I, uh, I was just, uh..." Mooky didn't know what to say. He'd been caught red-handed. "Uh, is this, your...house?"

The cat dismounted from the rocking chair and stalked forward. He had long, grayish white fur, and stark blue eyes — eyes that were slightly foggy with age.

"Yes, this is my house," the cat growled. "And this is my porch. And that is my food." He nodded towards the bowl behind Mooky. "And now it's your turn to answer a question, newcomer: who are you, and what are you doing on my porch?"

"Uh, I-I'm Mooky," Mooky said, not liking the way the old tom's tail was sweeping. "And, uh, well...I just got abandoned, and I haven't eaten all day, and—"

"I'm sorry to hear that," the old cat snarled, "but you'll have to mooch off of someone else. Now get off of my porch, sonny, before I get angry."

Mooky's eyes widened, and he glanced behind him, to the bowl full of cat food. He turned back to the old cat. But...food!

"I said git!" The old cat leapt at Mooky, and Mooky fled the porch, again taking refuge beneath the car in the driveway. He turned to see the old cat glaring down at him before moving to the bowl. Mooky's stomach growled again, and he began to despair.

Squirrel it is, he thought unhappily.

***

Mooky's squirrel-catching plan was not working out so well.

There were plenty of the little rodents about — it looked like all the humans had recently cut their lawns, and squirrels and robins and mockingbirds dotted the grass, pecking at worms or uncovering buried nuts.

So it wasn't so much the lack of prey as it was Mooky's inability to catch them that was the problem.

The squirrels were very...well, squirrelly, and Mooky didn't know if he was walking too loudly or breathing too hard or what, but whenever he got two feet away from a prospective victim, it would bolt up a tree just as he was getting ready to pounce.

And the birds? Mooky could swear they were taunting him. They'd let him get close enough to think that he had a chance of getting one, but when he actually leapt and tried to snag one, they were suddenly up in a nearby tree, chattering at him. Laughing at him. It made Mooky steam.

He'd show them!

He was currently in the yard across from One-ear's; it was a sprawling expanse of grass that surrounded a long, blue, one-story house guarded by a wall of bushes. A squirrel sat in the middle of the green, nibbling rapidly at a nut that it had unearthed from somewhere in the yard. Mooky was crouched behind him, desperate not to make a sound.

Okay...this time...

Slowly, he moved forward, putting one paw carefully in front of the other. So far, so good—the squirrel was still nibbling at its nut, none the wiser that a predator was sneaking up behind it. Another step. Then another. He was almost in range... He was so close... The squirrel was still oblivious... He was going to do it this time...!

NOW! Mooky leapt, yowling as he brought his claws down...on grass. What the—? He looked around wildly. Angrily. Where had that fluffing squirrel gone?

Something suddenly hit the back of his head: he turned to see a nut tumble into the grass. He looked up and saw the squirrel perched on the yard's picket fence, chattering at him before turning and jumping down into the backyard.

No he didn't! Had that fluffing squirrel just thrown his nut at him? That would not go unanswered.

Unfortunately, Mooky was so weak with hunger that he doubted he'd have enough energy to chase the blasted rodent. He dropped in the grass, letting out a hopeless mewl. Starvation, eh? Not the way he imagined going down...

A tasty aroma suddenly flowed past his nose, snatched away by the evening breeze. Mooky shot up, catching a whiff of the scent again. Cat food! Coming from...this house!

Stomach snarling, Mooky followed the scent, moving up the bowl shaped yard and towards the blue house. As Mooky drew close to the brick steps of the porch, a curious sound met his ears: mewling. A second later, he picked up the scent of cats. Many cats, enough to stop him in his tracks. How many felines lived at this house? Did he want to find out?

A tiny form suddenly peeked around the corner of the steps, one with a short tail, tiny ears, and huge, innocent eyes. It mewled in surprise at the sight of Mooky, and several other tiny forms joined it, all of them staring at Mooky in curiosity.

No, not cats. Kittens!

The kittens tumbled down the steps and surrounded Mooky, bombarding him with questions:

"Hi!"

"Who are you?"

"Are you new here?"

"What's your name?"

"Do you know Mommy?"

"Uh..." Mooky wasn't sure of what to say. "Hi, I'm...I'm Mooky."

"Moobie?" a kitten asked, head tilted in curiosity.

"No, not Moobie," Mooky corrected. "Mooky."

"Be our friend, Moobie!" another kitten squeaked.

"Mooky," Mooky said again. "Not Moobie. Mooky!"

"Kits! Up here! Now!"

Mooky flinched as a sharp voice whipped down from the porch. He glanced up to see a speckled, calico-colored cat standing at the top of the porch steps. Her green eyes were narrowed down at Mooky, and her tail was bushed out with hostility.

"Okay, Mommy!" a kitten said. As one, the group of tiny cats ascended the porch steps and surrounded their mother, who was still glaring down at Mooky with narrowed eyes.

"What is it, Mommy?" a kitten asked.

"Nap time," the mother cat said. "Go and get comfortable in the cat bed."

"But Mommy, we aren't tired!" another kitten protested.

"Now!" The kittens reluctantly pushed through the cat flap in the front door, disappearing down the house. The female cat watched them go, then went back to glaring down at Mooky. He almost sighed in exasperation: Well, looks like I'm not getting any food here. Was there a cat on this cul-de-sac that wouldn't glare at and/or attack him on sight?

"Hi," he said, trying to be civil. "I, uh...Sorry, I was just saying hi to your kits. I'm new around here, and I thought I'd introduce myself..." The female cat said nothing, just kept glowering, and he rubbed his paws together, a little nervous. "Um, they're beautiful. Your kits."

"Thank you." Her tone was taciturn.

"So, uh...I'm Mooky. What's your name?"

"Lizzy."

"Nice to meet you, Lizzy. Listen, I, uh, I've just been abandoned by my owners, and I haven't eaten anything—"

"No."

Mooky blinked, shocked. "Wh-what?"

"I know what you're going to say." Lizzy slowly lowered herself into a crouch. "You're going to ask for some of my food. And the answer is no."

"Please, ma'am," Mooky begged. "I'm really—."

"There's only enough for me and my kits," Lizzy said sharply. "You'll have to find your next meal somewhere else."

I'm getting tired of hearing that line. "See here," Mooky said, straining to remain diplomatic. "Have you no mercy for a poor, tired, abandoned cat? I've had a really rough day, Lizzy, a really rough day, and it started out with me being chased by that fluffing dog that supposedly won't stay in his yard." He flicked his tail, motioning to the yard across the street, where the devil lived. "I'm stressed, I'm exhausted, and I'm out of my depth, here. Can't you at least spare me some scraps?"

Lizzy shifted, curling her feet under herself and her tail around her flanks. She stared at Mooky for a full minute before saying, "Look, if you're looking to dine-and-dash, then head over to LoLo's house." She nodded next door, to the beige abode where that old, gray tomcat lived.

"I've already been there," Mooky said. "He shooed me off."

"Wait until he's asleep," Lizzy advised. "He takes naps periodically during the day, and nothing short of an earthquake can wake that wizened old tom up when he's out. When he falls asleep, that's your chance to see if he's got any food left in his bowl."

Mooky thought about that. It made sense that a cat that old would take long naps during the day. Stealing an old cat's food wasn't really what Mooky wanted to do, but at this point, he was pretty desperate to get his paws on some grub.

"Okay, thanks," Mooky said.

Lizzy gave a curt nod. "Now get out of here," she said to him. "The next time you come near my kits, I won't be so nice."

***

Mooky skulked back over to LoLo's house, hiding beneath some bushes situated by the garage door. Hopefully, LoLo wouldn't notice him there.

It took him a minute to spot the old feline from this far away—Mooky made out the tom's bushy gray tail swinging from the top of the porch steps. Meaning he was still at the food bowl, probably eating. Save some for me, please.

LoLo ignored Mooky's silent plea: he crouched by the food bowl for a long time, his head dipped beneath the rim of the dish. Mooky sincerely hoped that he was too old and had too small a stomach to consume all the food that he'd seen inside the bowl earlier, and that he was taking small, tiny bites, leaving plenty for Mooky behind.

His hopes began to fade over the next half an hour. Mooky plucked at the grass beneath his feet impatiently as he watched LoLo continue to eat, his own stomach snarling in jealousy. Stupid old cat! Didn't he know that it was impolite to keep someone waiting for this long?

Finally, fortune favored him: LoLo straightened, licking his chops as he backed away from the bowl. He sat back and cleaned his paws for a minute, then released a large, toothy yawn.

That's right old man. You're nice and full, and now you're tired enough for a nap. Why don't you head over to the rocking chair, get some shut-eye?

Almost as if he'd heard him, LoLo padded sleepily towards the far end of the porch, towards the garage door, where the rocking chair waited patiently for him.

That's right. That's it. Take a nap—

The front door suddenly opened, and the old, hunched woman from before stepped out of the house, brandishing a broom and dust-pan. Mooky's eagerly-twitching tail thumped to the ground.

You've got to be kidding me! Was the universe trying to rub his fur the wrong way today?

LoLo performed a U-turn and purred as he rubbed up against his owner. She cooed at him and scratched his head before setting to work sweeping the dust off of the porch. Mooky continued to paw at the grass as he watched, more anxious than ever for whatever scraps of food were left in that dish. But the old woman, irritatingly enough, took her time, meticulously dusting every scrap of pollen and lint and grass from one side of the porch before shuffling to the other and repeating the slow and steady process. Another good half hour later, she finally propped her broom against the wall and appraised her work with a short nod.

But just as Mooky's hopes began to rise, the woman creaked down into the old, rickety chair before clicking for LoLo. The old tom obediently leapt into her lap and curled up against her, purring as she stroked his forehead.

"Ah," Mooky heard the old woman say. "It's a nice day to sit out and enjoy the sun."

Mousetails! Mooky dropped to his belly, despairing a little. Looks like I'm going to have to wait a while.

***

The setting sun had cast the cul-de-sac into darkness when Mooky awoke again, thanks to his snarling belly. He pawed at his eyes, trying to scrub away his sleep, and reoriented himself. He was still under that bush by the driveway. At LoLo's house. Right, LoLo's house. Where he was hoping to score some food, because he was kinda starving.

He peered out from under the bush, and his jaw dropped in dismay when he saw the old woman's gray bun peeking over the railing. That old woman and that fluffing old cat were still on the porch! Just how long were they planning to stay outside?

A sharp snore made him jolt—it was almost as loud as a passing car.

Wait. Snore?

Curious, Mooky padded out from beneath the bush and ducked under the car in the driveway, just in case LoLo happened to see him skulking from his hiding place. He moved to the other side of the vehicle and glanced up onto the porch.

Sure enough, the old woman was fast asleep, her head propped against the back of the rocking chair. Her snores were so high and so loud that they sounded almost fake. Mooky spotted LoLo through the bars of the porch railing, still curled up in the old woman's lap. His head was resting against one of her bony knees, and his eyes were firmly shut. He was asleep too!

What luck! Now was Mooky's chance to get LoLo's food.

Quickly, he moved from underneath the car, padding across the brick walkway and back to the porch steps. He paused there, glancing up at LoLo and his old woman. Still fast asleep. He moved again, streaking up the stairs until he sat in front of the cat bowl. He glanced at LoLo again. Still snoring. So far, so good...

Mooky looked eagerly down into the cat bowl, only to have his ears droop in dismay. The dish was nearly wiped clean, almost all of the cat food gone, save for a few tiny clumps that clung stubbornly to the bottom. Darn. But then again, he was lucky that LoLo had left any scraps at all.

With one last glance over his shoulder, Mooky dipped his head into the bowl, lapping up a tiny clump of cat food. He sighed in pleasure as he gulped it down. Delicious. Maybe it was because he was separately hungry, or because this was a different type of cat food than what he was used to, but it tasted exquisite. What was this stuff? Meow Mix, the stuff Kitten had been eating?

Who cares? He didn't. He lapped up another piece of cat food and gulped, then another. Then another. He'd already finished half of the scraps that were left, but the tiny morsels only intensified his hunger, made his belly growl more loudly than ever.

Ugh, why are you so cruel, life?

"How dare you?!"

Mooky spun around so fast that he grew dizzy. LoLo was standing a couple of feet away, back arched and tail bushed out in hostility. His teeth were parted in a hiss, and his blue eyes were narrowed at Mooky in fury. Behind him, the old woman continued to snore in her rocking chair, none the wiser that her cat had vacated her lap.

"LoLo," Mooky stammered. Caught red-handed again! "I-I'm sorry. I can explain!"

LoLo leapt at him, slashing down with a claw. But he was as slow as he was old, so Mooky had plenty of time to bolt down the porch steps and into the yard. But that didn't mean the incoming claw had frightened him any less.

To his horror, LoLo kept coming, descending down the stairs and stalking towards Mooky in a swift crouch. "Get out of my yard!" he howled, slashing at Mooky again. By that time, Mooky had fled across the yard, crossing the street and jumping back into One-ear's lawn. He didn't stop until he was back on the hood of that truck, bristling and fearing pursuit.

Luckily, LoLo's had stopped at the end of his driveway, his blue eyes still glowering daggers at Mooky even from that distance. "Don't you dare show your face again in my yard!" LoLo yowled at him. "Not unless you want to be reduced to a bag of bloody fur!"

With that, the cat angrily whipped around, returning to the porch. Mooky breathed slowly, urging his bristling fur to smoothen out, bit by bit. He sighed of relief as he slowly dismounted from the truck. Well, that hadn't gone exactly as planned, but at least he'd gotten a little bit of LoLo's food and had filled his belly.

Sort of.

***

Actually, his belly wasn't really "sort of" full. It was still practically empty.

Mooky was padding back up the cul-de-sac, towards Lizzy's house, when it began snarling again, begging for more food. The pangs were quite intense this time, biting at his stomach and making him wince.

For the first time since he'd entered the neighborhood, he wished that he'd waited out on the highway to see if his owners would return for a few hours longer.

Well, you didn't, Mooky thought to himself as he dodged a car coming down the road. You're here, now, and you'll have to deal with it as best you can.

But even as he gave himself a little pep talk, Mooky wondered how long he'd be able to "deal with it". If it was this hard to get food around here, to the point that he had to resort to trying to catch those nut-throwing squirrels or steal food from mangy, frisky old cats, then how long was he going to last, realistically? A day? Two days? Before he broke down from starvation?

You're being melodramatic, his conscience said.

Yeah, he thought to himself. So's my stomach.

It was nearly dark now, and though his belly continued to pinch and cramp, Mooky knew that he didn't have the energy to look for food anymore today. He would have to get some rest, try again tomorrow. Hopefully with more success.

Right now, I could use a good place to rest. He thought about that cozy, soft swing on One-ear's porch, but decided against it—he wasn't going near that selfish bully's territory again, not while he was so weak and at half strength. He passed Lizzy's house and spotted her kittens mewling and batting playfully with each other in the light of the porch light while Lizzy herself looked on. No use in going there and asking for asylum. Lizzy was the only that cat, thus far, hadn't attacked him yet, but her prickly attitude had been an assault in and of itself, and he didn't want to have to deal with that again. Not yet.

Maybe a house further down the street, Mooky thought to himself. As he padded around the curve of the road, a house came out of the gloom, a yellowish one-story with an unkempt yard and a series of windows lining the front face on either side of the tiny porch. Its lights weren't on, and its driveway held no vehicles — empty?

If so, perfect. Maybe there was some place in the front yard, inside those wild bushes, where he could sleep undisturbed—

"WOOOOOOOOOOF!"

Mooky screeched and swerved around, looking for the source of the explosive noise: behind him, a dog was running up the street towards him, fangs bared, claws clicking against the asphalt.

You've got to be kidding me!

The dog — Kenny's dog — barked again, and Mooky shot towards the nearest tree, one growing in Lizzy's side yard. He clawed madly up the trunk and kept going until he was yards above the earth. He scrambled wildly onto a thick branch and looked downward.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOF!" The dog greeted him from the bottom of the tree, perched at the roots, glaring up at Mooky.

"Go away!" Mooky hissed down at the mongrel. "Why can't you stay in your yard and leave me alone?"

"WOOOOOOOOOOF!" the dog answered. Mooky didn't know what he was saying, but as the sun continued to dip below the horizon, Mooky knew that he wouldn't be venturing towards that empty yellow house tonight. In fact, judging by the way the dog was sitting patiently at the bottom of the tree — as if it were expecting for Mooky to drop down into his eagerly-awaiting mouth — Mooky was pretty certain that he wouldn't be moving from this very spot.

Guess I'm camping up here for the night, he thought, wondering how in the world he was going to be able to sleep up in a tree with a dog barking up at him all hours of the night.

Ten minutes later, storm clouds built up in the sky, and it began to rain. Mooky couldn't help but give the pouring sky an incredulous glance.

Wow. When it rained,it really did pour.