Cats in the Hood

As a child I always wanted a dog. Later, when I understood that dogs need constant care and lots of walks, I changed my mind and wanted to have a cat. I remember that our next door neighbour, old Klaus, had a cat, a brown and black coloured mini tiger. It was the unfriendliest creature I've ever seen, a real diva. Only when she died I learned that it was her senility.

When I moved to Bonn to become a student, I had this sous-terrain place with a single window that looked up to the ground floor unit's garden. Every now and then a cat would visit me on the other side of that window. She never came in, but it was nice to know she would drop by from time to time. She never said anything, just sat there in silence. 

I never realized how many cats there were in this neighbourhood. Whenever I walk through the alleys from the station to my place I see at least one of them. I wonder if that's where they live, the little streets that run through this hood. They have no address, no key to their homes, but for some reason I feel like they are the real residents of the Seokye-dong district.