I have finally been forgiven for the great Christmas Day Bath Attack. All three cats are now back on speaking & petting terms with us again. Our oldest cat, Icarus, forgave me about an hour after his bath. Skitter, the middle kitty who adopted us and survived a cancerous tumor, took a few hours longer before she was willing to come out of hiding. She waited until her fur had completely dried and she was sure we weren’t going near the offending bathroom. Spook, the youngest, didn’t forgive me until right before bedtime. She finally allowed me to approach her (without the accompanying hiss) and touch the tip of her nose with my finger. She then demanded that I play with her before bedtime. If it were up to her, I’d be taunting her with the the feather-on-a-stick toy all day long.
We’ve had Spook for 10 months. She’s around 2 years old, but we’re not positive since the local humane society didn’t know her exact age either. They found her sitting collarless on a corner, where I assume she’d been seen several times before since they called her a feral cat. Since she appeared friendly, they decided to adopt her out. She was chopped (spayed) and shot and put out “on the market.” KKC and I found her at the local shelter a few days later. We were leaning toward a kitten, but decided to give Spook a home because we thought she’d have an easier time defending herself from Icarus, plus she was very friendly in the shelter.
Then we got her home.
Our first mistake was trying to introduce her to the other cats. In the hallway outside the cat room, we opened her cardboard kennel to let Icarus and Skitter get a sniff of her and of her to get a sniff of them. It took 10 seconds for Spook to freak out and find a dark corner to hide in. We surrendered the cat room to her, setting up a litterbox for the other two in the guest room. It took a month of treats and surrepticious vists to get her out from under the bed to eat in front of us. It took another month before she was willing to step foot outside the cat room. The third month went back and forth between hateful feral cat and shy “please be my friend” cat.
2012 has been an interesting experience. For one thing, Spook is very territorial (Icarus is more possessive). For another, she didn’t always know the difference between play and hunt. The first time I introduced her to the feather toy, she went for the feather with a vengance and then got very angry when I tried to pull it away from her. It took a few more months before she finally realized that the feather was not real prey, but something to play with. Now she trots up to me and whines at me until I follow her over to the play area. If she sees me walking in that direction (it’s near our bedroom), she’ll follow me and stand there with the most mournful kitty eyes you’ve ever seen until I pick up the stick and make the feather move for her.
The humane society didn’t spay Spook properly, we found out four months into our adoption. She went into heat three times this year, yowling and howling and being incredibly friendly. These were the only times Spook let us pick her up and pet her. I finally had our vet do a test (an estradial test, I believe it’s called) and her estrogen count was through the roof. So now I have to schedule a time to take her in and let the vet poke through the plumbing to find the bits that didn’t get removed. I find myself thinking that the only reason they thought Spook was a friendly feral cat was because they found her while she was in heat. The humane society also told us she liked being brushed. They were wrong on that too. She hates being brushed except, of course, while she’s in heat. Then she tolerates it for a short time.
I’ve never had a feral cat before, but I’m coming to terms with her and her moods just as she’s coming to terms with the rest of the household. In October I finally sussed out that Spook would have been much happier in a single cat household (as in only her), but she seems to have adapted to our house and the other cats fairly well. We’ve got plenty of places she can hide when she wants to be alone. She plays with Skitter occasionally, ignores Icarus (alpha cat) whenever she can, or at least avoids him. And she has finally consented to a little bit of lap time. All on her terms of course, and mostly in the middle of the night while I’m asleep (she crawls up and curls next to my side, walking me up). I have to be careful. If she crawls into my lap, I’m not allowed to pet or scratch her unless she shoves her head under my head. Otherwise she hisses and runs off.
Still, I think we’re making progress. She follows me everywhere. When I sit down, she sits about a foot away, staring at me wistfully. Sometimes she crawls across the back of the chair and meows at me, then runs away before I Get Ideas. (KKC says we should have called her “Stockholm”.)
I look forward to the changes in our relationship over 2013. Maybe I’ll finally convince her to sit still for a brush.
And maybe I’m dreaming.
