The cat didn't so much approach as just appear. One moment the path was clear, and the next, there was a cat settling down on it, sitting tall and proper, tail primly tucked over her neatly aligned forepaws. The park was overrun, though, so perhaps she'd merely gone unnoticed until then.

Unless one was acquainted with cats, she was a fairly unremarkable if attractively patterned calico; if one was acquainted with cats, however, they might find cause to remark on her unusual size: although neither overweight nor badly proportioned, she would likely outweigh all but the heftiest of Maine Coons and a number of small dogs besides.

The rest of the place was deserted, but perhaps there was still wildlife? Perhaps she wasn't even real, but yet another product of the city for some obscure reason. Once she sat, staring up at Babs (politely, though, one might feel compelled to notice) she did not move again, and seemingly would not until she was acknowledged. She was a cat, after all.