When I was young we had an un-neutered ginger tom cat. Big cat, always fighting. One day there was a stray cat in the bushes meowing, looked in a poor state. My mother forbade us from bringing it in or feeding it saying 'We don't need another cat.'
She went out down the market so I decided to go and take some food to this cat. I get to the kitchen and in comes our tom cat so I put some food out for him. In comes the stray right behind him and goes right to the food and starts eating it. Our tom cat does nothing, just sits there and watches it eat.
After it ate it came into the living room and settled down. My mother came back and saw it and got started on me, but I said 'Wasn't me, our cat brought him in'. Which was entirely true. There wasn't really much point in her having a go at the tom cat, he was largely indifferent to being told off.
Think we had that stray for about ten years, maybe more.
Maybe a dozen or so years ago we lived in Idaho and had a grey tabby named Gandalf the Grey. This one night it was brutally cold, maybe above zero and maybe not, and windy too. Gandalf was late coming home. Finally he showed up at the front door, and behind him was a stray male orange tabby. Gandalf absolutely REFUSED to come inside unless we let his friend come in as well. We did, and we were impressed with what a big heart Gandalf had, that he refused to come in out of the cold as long as his friend wasn't allowed inside too. We called his friend "Tiger". Unlike your cat's friend, Tiger chose not to come back, but he and Gandalf remained friends until we moved.
Last edited:

