Photo by Liz Kirchner
Edwin Ramos looks after a colony of fifteen cats in Radford managing their health, feeding and caring for them.

Liz Kirchner

The wind is bitter in the brambles, whipping plastic bags snagged on old roses and freezing the poisonous rain in the abandoned tires in the ditch, but in the middle of the broken street in thin sun, a small coffee-brown cat is waiting quietly, until, at 3 o’clock, Edwin Ramos trundles down the hill above the river honking the horn of his 20-year-old purple Honda.

The little brown cat hops up and out from the brambles, the roses and winter goldenrod, cats—tortoise shells, tabbies, slate grey, marmalade orange and one a fluffy glamorous white- come streaming and pouncing, yawning, rolling in the gravel, leaping up to the old loading dock along the chain link as he arrives. It’s time for lunch.

Edwin Ramos…

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