Reaching the boardwalk at last, I retrieved my shoes and carried them in one hand while I cradled the small cat in the crook of my other arm. Near the boat, I dropped my shoes to the dock and, holding on to a pile with one hand, alternately lowered each leg over the side of the dock and swirled it around in the water to sluice off the mud. Then I retrieved my shoes and went aboard and to the main cabin below.

I quickly nabbed a couple of towels and as gently as possible began to dry the little guy. As I ran my hands over him I realized I could feel every bone in his body. I have never seen or felt an animal so emaciated and still alive. I anticipated he would put up some resistance, but instead he sat quietly, even though every few seconds he was racked by a shiver that shook a pitiable churring sound from deep within his thin frame.

When he was somewhat dried off I wrapped him in a dry towel and carried him to the galley. Setting him at my feet, I found a can of tuna in the pantry, which I quickly opened and dumped onto a saucer. Kneeling down, I placed the meal in front of my guest. I fully expected to see him hurl himself onto the fish, but instead, he looked me in the eye for a second as though surprised by the gift, and then ducked his head and began to feed.

I looked him over as he ate like only a starving animal can—in great gulping, choking bites. In appearance, he was an old-fashioned tabby cat—the type of feline that most closely resembles his wild ancestor. His coat was a dark gray—tending to black—with reddish markings on the chest and under the throat. Several light brown, almost blond, stripes ran from between his eyes to the back of his head and a similar colored stripe made a perpendicular blaze across his back, just behind the shoulders. There were more stripes on his flanks and around his legs, and alternating rings on his tail that closely resembled the markings of a raccoon.

I ran my fingers lightly over his body as he ate, and though he was as scrawny as a war refugee, he didn’t seem to have any injuries.

“You’re lucky that old one-eyed boar ’coon that hangs around here didn’t find you before I did, little fella,” I said as I completed my examination. “That old rascal would have made mighty short work of you.”