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I had no intention of adopting Buffy, and she showed no interest in becoming an indoor cat. She was not cute and cuddly, and even now her comfortable life has not changed the expression on her face, which is that of a ruthless killer. Sometimes she stares at me as if she were calculating the most efficient route to my jugular, and I break out the treats to remind her that I am far more useful as a provider than as food.

Buffy was born downstairs sometime in 2016. Her ancestress used to bring me huge rat corpses in thanks for the kibble and canned food I gave the clowder. Buffy is an ordinary-looking white cat with black markings. When she was bathed for the first time, I noticed very faint orange spots on her head, making her a secret calico. Like her ancestress she was a champion slayer (hence the name) of rodents, which she annihilated efficiently and then used for football practice. I often spotted her sitting motionless by the dumpster, ears on high alert, waiting to pounce on an unfortunate rat. Almost everyday she deposited a dead rat by the security guard’s desk (her clowder’s rent), until the rat population wised up and presumably moved away. She was skinny and not friendly, although she did present me with dead rats now and then.

In 2018 she had a series of pregnancies. She gave birth to stillborn kittens one morning, and was back on the hunt by the afternoon. She got pregnant two more times after that, but the kittens always died. (I don’t know much about my human neighbors, but I am very well-informed about the habits of the neighborhood cats.) When she became pregnant again in mid-2019, I thought she could use some extra nutrition and began feeding her more often. Even then she must’ve needed more protein because I saw her eating one of the rats she had killed.

The added protein worked. In late July she gave birth to four healthy white and black kittens. One of the guards found an abandoned kitten in front of the 7-11 and gave it to Buffy, who nursed it along with her own kittens. The kittens quickly grew big and frisky, but Buffy began to look scrawny and ill, and by late August she seemed exhausted. One night I saw her lying beside a car, too weak or oblivious to get out of the rain. When I fed the kittens, who had been weaned and were now eating large quantities of kibble, she did not join them. Clearly she needed help. I picked her up and brought her to my apartment. She did not protest. I put her in a cardboard box with an old towel, and she went right to sleep. Drogon and Jacob watched the guest, but did not approach or hiss at her. (To this day I wonder if Jacob recognizes that she is his sister.) Buffy slept the deep sleep of exhaustion, getting up only to eat the food I brought her.

Watch for Cat People and People Cats, the zine! Illustrated by Bianca Ortigas.