Through a little industrial estate, a cat popped his head out between two
parked cars and was about to cross in front of me. I stopped to let him,
despite two cars behind me and when he did I saw that he was quite thin, and
if I ever saw a wandering unneutered tomcat, that was one.
However much I wanted to get out of my car and grab him to neuter him and
change his life, I didn't. Because maybe he was like KFC, he had a good
home and had kidney failure that was being treated and that's why he was
thin and he doesn't want anyone to snatch him from the street. I have no
evidence that he was a wandering tom with all his equipment intact, but he
sure looked like one.
He had almost the same markings as Boyfriend, and didn't look in the first
flush of youth so maybe there was a very active tabby boy in the
neighbourhood 9 or 10 years ago.
He was thin.
He seemed OK and went about his business after I stopped my car so I didn't
run over him. I might have killed him so easily as he was about to run out
in front of my car.
I cannot imagine how I would feel if I killed a cat even accidentally.

Tweed