A new cat came to visit us a couple of days ago.

We know the neighbourhood cats. Most often we see Cleo, the middle-aged large brown tabby, who lives across the street and definitely thinks of our garden as part of her territory, as she confidently prowls around. We also get regular visits from the orange tabby who occasionally sits around the old rat holes in the garden, flicking its tail and looking ready to pounce.

This cat was unknown to us. And it looked young and lost and scared as it walked around in the garden. Got spooked by some sudden sound and ran up in a tree, and mewled piteously. It even walked into our house, which none of the other cats do, and was clearly looking for a friendly human.

We thought it might have gotten lost and tracked down its owners. It turned out the owners lived diagonally across the street. The cat, whose name is Sid, was quite young still and this was the first day the family had left him on his own for the day. He was struggling to adapt to this new reality.

Just a few days later, and Sid is already looking more confident when he visits us. Today he explored our house (as the French doors stand wide open all day when we are at home) which included inspecting the inside of the fridge, my desk and the window sill (where some flowers got knocked down) and this perfect cat-sized cardboard box.