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- Dec 26, 2011
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Hello my name is John. We got our cat about 15 years ago. We named it "Trouble". We've had four cats I think in total but I've never seen a cat that was this tough. When I say tough I mean practically fearless.
As a kitten we got her from our extended family who no longer could take care of her. This change of scenery could have been the reason she was so hostile to us. Or it could have been the reason the family decided that she wasn't pet material. Being young I was naturally optimistic that we could tame her quickly to act a little less hostile.
It took a little longer than I expected. For about the first month that we had her she wouldn't leave my bedroom. Her favorite spot was under the bed. I would wake up in the morning and try to pet her and the response was vicious clawing. I would bring her food and water. I put the litter box right next to the bed.
Finally I came up with a plan. I got two pairs of socks. I put two socks on each hand and decided to let her attack my covered hands. She would claw and claw. It was actually a lot of fun. Eventually she would become tired and wouldn't fight as intensely. Soon I was able to pet her normally. Well almost normally. Every once in awhile even until very recently she would randomly throw a bite in. It was like her message that we would never be in charge. Gotta respect that right?
She had us trained. Fancy feast. Water. Not always fancy feast but a lot. She was a great cat. I've seen her chase dogs away. Win battles with other cats. I thought she was too tough to die. I felt like a part of me was dieing. I realize that's just stupid but that's how I felt.
Once in awhile like now I miss her. People say "oh it's just a cat". Not about my situation but in general about animals when they die. I think there's more. I saw it in her eyes. I knew she was going to die even before it happened. She wasn't there anymore. I could even feel it I think.
As a kitten we got her from our extended family who no longer could take care of her. This change of scenery could have been the reason she was so hostile to us. Or it could have been the reason the family decided that she wasn't pet material. Being young I was naturally optimistic that we could tame her quickly to act a little less hostile.
It took a little longer than I expected. For about the first month that we had her she wouldn't leave my bedroom. Her favorite spot was under the bed. I would wake up in the morning and try to pet her and the response was vicious clawing. I would bring her food and water. I put the litter box right next to the bed.
Finally I came up with a plan. I got two pairs of socks. I put two socks on each hand and decided to let her attack my covered hands. She would claw and claw. It was actually a lot of fun. Eventually she would become tired and wouldn't fight as intensely. Soon I was able to pet her normally. Well almost normally. Every once in awhile even until very recently she would randomly throw a bite in. It was like her message that we would never be in charge. Gotta respect that right?
She had us trained. Fancy feast. Water. Not always fancy feast but a lot. She was a great cat. I've seen her chase dogs away. Win battles with other cats. I thought she was too tough to die. I felt like a part of me was dieing. I realize that's just stupid but that's how I felt.
Once in awhile like now I miss her. People say "oh it's just a cat". Not about my situation but in general about animals when they die. I think there's more. I saw it in her eyes. I knew she was going to die even before it happened. She wasn't there anymore. I could even feel it I think.
