And outside? An ever-changing tide of sinewy strangers, hobbled refugees and hungry ghosts.
"There are about 15 different ones that come," Delk says. "I've named some. I don't name some. I'm trying not to get too attached."
But these cats don't come for the catnip. They come for the compassion.
In a town of around 8,000 people, Delk is one of few who spend so much time caring for the local cats, both feral and lost. Many of them show up suffering grievous injuries.
"Some days, I feel like shutting my blinds," she says. "But I can't. Because I know if I don't feed them, nobody will."