Our cat doesn't like to go outside. He spends his days sleeping on the couch, the windowsill, or in the closet among my things. So I was absolutely shocked when I saw Barsik in someone else's window.
One day, as I was returning from work and approaching my apartment building, I smelled fried potatoes and automatically turned my head toward the window, where the delicious aromas were drifting. But I quickly forgot about the potatoes when I realized that my cat, Barsik, was peering at me through the glass of someone else's apartment. My husband and I had rescued him from a tree as a cub five years ago and adopted him into our home.
I was about to go to the neighbors to sort this out, but then I thought about it logically. Our Barsik is an ordinary cat of the "noble breed"—a gray tabby. There are dozens, if not hundreds, of cats like him. This one probably just looks like ours. Maybe even a relative.
Even though I'd found a logical explanation for what I'd seen, I still felt a bit uneasy. So, opening the door, without even greeting my husband, I asked him, "Where's Barsik?!" He looked at me with confused eyes and replied that our little beast was probably sleeping somewhere. Sure enough, a second later he lazily emerged from the kitchen, stretching and yawning. I sighed with relief: "So that cat was just a lookalike."
Even though Barsik was there that evening, the situation somehow haunted me. Now, whenever I went somewhere or returned home, my gaze was glued to that very window. I saw the fake Barsik there three times that week. The fourth time, I couldn't stand it any longer and decided to go to the neighbors to finally dispel all my doubts.
I felt incredibly stupid when I rang the doorbell. A retired neighbor opened the door. She looked at me with astonished eyes, not understanding why I was asking her about the cat or what I even wanted from her. Suddenly, Barsik leisurely walked out of the kitchen into the hallway. It was my pet. I recognized him by the scar on his nose—the mark of a year-old, a vicious fight with the neighbor's cat.
As it turned out, the pensioner had no idea the troublemaker was a domestic cat. About a year ago, her husband noticed a cat peering through the open kitchen window. He took pity on the stray and fed him. Since then, he's been regularly popping in through the neighbors' window. They don't mind; they even like it. The cat is kind and affectionate. He'll come, eat, sleep, and leave. The elderly couple even kept treats for him in the kitchen cabinet.
It turns out our Barsik had gotten the hang of sneaking out through the open window. He'd crawl along the ledge to the neighbors' house, where he'd get extra food and affection. So, for a whole year now, our beloved has been living between two houses, and we had no idea. I felt terribly embarrassed in front of the neighbor, and she felt embarrassed in front of me. We said goodbye on a positive note, and I went home, carrying my fugitive under my arm.
So, Barsik was kept under strict surveillance. We hung a screen on the window, and his "double life" ended. My husband and I also began paying more attention to him, so he wouldn't get the idea to run away and look for other owners. But just in case, we ordered him a collar with a tag with my phone number on it, so no one would ever mistake our pet for a stray.
Incidentally, on my way home from work, I still automatically glanced into that same neighbor's window. And about a week after that incident, I saw a cat behind the glass again. Only this time it wasn't our gray tabby, Barsik, but a little ginger one. Thanks to Barsik, the elderly couple realized how wonderful it is to have a cat in the house. Now they'll be much happier.
Sergey
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