Pamuk trotted down the village alley. His belly was full. Past the old bakery, he trotted on.
He heard a rustle behind the garden wall. Three cats huddled there, shivering in the cold.
Pamuk dropped a piece of kibble near the wall. Then he kept walking.
The next morning, Pamuk dropped two pieces near the wall. Same route. Same spot.
A gray cat stepped out and sniffed the food. Then it looked right at Pamuk.
Pamuk wagged his tail once. Then he trotted on.
On the third day, Pamuk carried a bigger bowl. The gray cat came first. Then two more cats appeared.
A fourth cat peered from a gap in the fence and meowed. Pamuk dropped more kibble without a word.
The gray cat batted a flour sack on the bakery step. Achoo! Achoo! The other cats sneezed. Pamuk barked with laughter.
Pamuk dropped his bowl by the garden wall every morning. The cats gathered. Snow began to melt.
The gray cat pushed extra kibble toward Pamuk's bowl. He tilted his head. What was that for?
Snow melted. Green shoots appeared along the alley. Pamuk trotted on, happy.