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Random scribbles:

Down by the bottom of the door, visible through slats, it's like a scrawny street cat, curling itself into the corner. As soon as you see it you're overwhelmed by pity. These objects of affection have a way of making you forget and before you know it you've let it in. It waits for a while on the step, ready to run off. Once it's got used to the idea and has slunk inside you set down a dish of water for it. It laps hungrily. Once it's drunk all of that down and licked the dish you open to the door to the stairs and wait for it to crawl through. It doesn't follow. A lot of coaxing gets it up onto the next floor, it takes a lot more coaxing to get it up to the next again. Once it's in your apartment you go about fixing it some food. It devours you before you can make it out of the kitchen.