In Chicago, where the buildings touched the sky and the trains rattled the ground, there was a house nestled between a row of similar houses. The Porch Kitty Krew made their home among the bushes, weeds and trees found in the back yard.
An aging man named Mr. Roman lived in the house who’s wooden deck had seen better days. The house was average, but his heart was big. Each morning and evening he left out food for the Porch Kitties.
Tuxedo, black and white like her name, was street-smart and fierce. Benitoo, a grey short-hair, had a twisted left paw, walked with a limp but knew the rhythm of the city. PK Clone was all black with a tuft of white on her breast and icy blue eyes.
Puffers came like a gust from Lake Michigan. His disheveled coat was black as coal, and his eyes were as green as the river on St. Patrick’s Day. He had no respect for the silence, and he gobbled down the food Mr. Roman left out.
The Porch Kitty Krew was not pleased. This was their yard. They had a pact with Mr. Roman. But Puffers didn’t care.
Days turned into weeks. Puffers’ cries competed with the sirens and the street noises. The yard was not the same.
One cold night, Mr. Roman sat by the deck with a can of tuna. Puffers was scratching at a fence post. Mr. Roman’s voice cut through the cold air.
“This city’s tough,” he said, “But you gotta respect what’s been here longer.”
Puffers looked up. He slowly climbed the deck stairs and sat next to Mr. Roman. They shared the can of tuna. They listened to the sounds of Chicago together.
Mornings became a ritual. Puffers would sit with Mr. Roman, watching the sun rise over the skyscrapers.
The Porch Kitty Krew watched Puffers. He was changing. The city was changing him.
One frosty morning, Puffers sat next to Benito. They looked at each other. Nods were exchanged.
The back yard was still loud, but it had a different sound. It was the sound of togetherness.
Puffers still chased his shadow and played with the wind, but he did it with the others. They were the yard’s watchers. They were Chicago’s own.
In a backyard where life was tough and the days were cold, Puffers found a home. He found the Porch Kitty Krew, and he found Mr. Roman. In the heart of the city, they found warmth. They found Chicago.