12/04/2025
Gravel Alley – Cider Spills All the Tea
Hi, I’m Cider: ex–alley reporter, current purr-powered talk show host.
I didn’t start in Gravel Alley. I was a porch cat with a bowl, a routine, and a front-row seat to neighbourhood drama… until the boxes came, the car left, and I was still on the step.
So I did what any chatty survivor would do: followed my nose. Pizza place → fish and chips → that one dumpster that smelled like regret but also chicken… and I landed in Gravel Alley. Rough ground, loud nights, good gossip.
I became the unofficial news anchor: who’s hiding a litter, who screams when a leaf blows by (not naming names, it was totally him), which raccoon runs the midnight snack bar.
Then the IBKC humans showed up. Soft voices. Pockets full of snacks.
Everyone else: “Careful, Cider.”
Me, seeing a drop trap with fancy canned food: “I’m just investigating this for journalism.”
Trap drops. I scream. I flail. I file a complaint with management… and then suddenly I’m in a warm room, on a soft bed, with food arriving in bowls instead of dumpsters.
I started purring so hard my ribs rattled. They were prepared for feral; they got a clingy orange extrovert who thinks every human is a podcast guest.
My hobbies now: following you like an orange exclamation mark, narrating everything you do (“Oh, you're at the fridge again? Relatable.”), .
IBKC took one look at me and said “Yeah, this one? He’s done with the streets.”
_______________________________________
UPDATE: BREAKING NEWS FROM THE SOFA DESK
So, um… plot twist.
Remember how I said I was just here “temporarily” while the humans did their little responsible TNR paperwork situation?
Yeah. No.
Turns out my foster family has no professional boundaries and I have elite persuasion skills. I hosted one (1) cuddle session, delivered a few perfectly-timed head boops, did my signature “follow-you-to-the-bathroom like a loyal orange shadow” move… and suddenly there were whispered meetings like, “I can’t imagine him leaving.”
Reader? Neither can I.
So it’s official: I’m adopted. Permanently booked. Full-time household correspondent. I have a family now—one that doesn’t pack boxes and disappear. One that knows my snack schedule, respects my need to narrate their entire day, and has accepted that their home is now also a studio.
Gravel Alley gave me material.
This family gave me my happy ending.
------------------------------
Gravel Alley is home to a colony of street cats who are part of IBKC’s TNR project—Most of the cats we trap are truly feral and go right back to their alley homes once they’re fixed and feeling better.
But every once in a while, someone like Cider steps into a trap and makes it clear he’s ready to trade street smarts for sofa time. Those lottery winners join our adoption program instead of going back to the alley.