Facts are hard to come by in an old folks home, where every tale has the ring of truth in it, and yet, every tale may come from the distant past and live only in the memories of the residents.
Now, I hear, fact or fantasy I know not which, that the "stray" cat that some people are trying to drive away and some are feeding and inviting in, is not a stray at all, but is a cat that Inga moved in with, pays the "pet surchage" to keep, and has escaped.
I could ask Inga, but I'm sure I would be just as confused after talking to her as I am now. Her deep Swedish accent is charming, but not easily understood. Ja, sure, das cat mine ist. (Did I mention that Inga was raised in Germany, and lived her adult life in Minnesota?)
Seems to me I saw the cat hanging 'round before Inga moved in.