While I have never owned a cat until this past week, I've spent a great deal of time cat sitting for friends and family & spending time with these beautiful animals. It hurts me deeply and absolutely breaks my heart to think of the far too many animals who are neglected, abused, and euthanized because of human entitlement.
I've been contemplating adopting a cat for about a year now. Two weeks ago, I visited an animal shelter that exclusively houses cats. The woman who runs the shelter does so out of her own home (she lives on vast farmland, just for clarification) and she has over 150 cats living there. They wander throughout her home, around her property, and roughly 50% of them have some sort of disability, illness, or circumstance that calls for special care and attentiveness (for example, she keeps cats with FIV or FeLV in separate, enclosed areas, she has a large pen in her backyard for more aggressive feral cats that have not been socialized, and on a separate note, she has many cats with diabetes or degenerative disorders that she cares for). She knows each and every cats name without having to pause to think about it, so she definitely is dedicated to these little buggers.
Before visiting, I saw of her cats on PetFinder.com and was particularly taken by a two year old named Otis. Upon visiting the shelter, she informed me that Otis was born sometime around June 2013 an was abandoned with a large group of other kittens at a feral colony. He was trapped, and she adopted him when he was around five months old (November 2013). She told me he had obviously been socialized and was the friendliest of the group of three brothers he belongs to. Otis resided in "the palace," a large enclosed area with about 20-30 cats off to the side of the woman's property that contained a shed with a couch, several play structures and a good amount of room and high places for the cats to rest and play. I knew Otis was shy within the first few minutes of meeting him. He was under the couch (a place I now in hindsight think he rarely left). From the get-go he clearly didn't seem to be the most social cat ever, but I really didn't mind the shyness! She told me that he doesn't get a lot of socializing in "the palace," but that with a bag of treats, some time and TLC, he will turn into my best friend.
I looked around the shelter for about an hour or so, and maybe I just didn't ask enough questions or I wasn't direct enough, but she seemed to encourage my initial plan to visit and adopt Otis.
A little over a week ago, I brought Otis home. When we went to pick him up, I was a little anxious to see that he was under the couch again. I wondered if he ever got out to socialize with other cats. Otis is a beautiful, precious animal, and I know that re-homing is an intensely scary experience for all cats, but even after a week with him here, I'm starting to doubt whether he will ever feel completely comfortable in our home:
When we first brought Otis home, he reacted much like I believe any cat would: he mewed a lot in his carrier on the car ride home out of fear, he immediately hid in the first enclosed area he could find, and he didn't come out much to interact with us, but certain behaviors have really worried me and make me feel like he is living in constant fear and discomfort here, which is truly the last thing I want to subject him to. It's been roughly nine days of living here and Otis has refused to spend longer than five seconds out in the open and refuses to take a hiding spot that doesn't have four secure edges protecting him (the two main ones he uses are in between the bottom shelf of my bookshelf and my laundry basket and a box of where I keep undergarments & a shelf in our entertainment center, behind two statuettes that assure he isn't directly out in the open). We kept him my bedroom for the first few days, which is a relatively normal size (10 feet by 10 feet), and he's explored the rest of the apartment when everyone is asleep, which is how he discovered the alcove in the entertainment center, but he wouldn't even dream of coming out while anybody is awake, even while they're quietly sitting, reading. When we try to gently coax him out of his hiding spots, he has been hissing and clawing A LOT. I don't think he is necessarily aggressive at all, rather very scared or hungry, which breaks me to another issue. He refuses to eat his food out in the open or to use the litter box while there is another person nearby (which I think can be solved by buying him a hood, but the woman we adopted from insisted we initially use an open litter box). We've had to bring his food to his hiding spots, otherwise he refuses to come out and eat and ultimately becomes very aggressive. A couple days ago, after I had fallen asleep, Otis left his bookshelf alcove and moved to the entertainment center alcove where I found him the following morning. I set out some fresh food and his litter box was clean, but he didn't leave the entertainment center at all the entire time I was home that morning. Neither myself or anybody else were home between 12:30 and 5 PM. When I returned around five, I sat in front of the alcove and spoke to him softly and tried to coax him out. When I reached forward to give him a treat, he hissed and bite me. It was then I realized he hadn't eaten all day (I figured he had because nobody was home and he usually is fine when we're asleep or not around). I brought his food to his alcove and sat in my living room. The poor boy ate the entire bowl in a few minutes, quickly darted out to go use the litter box, and went back to his bookshelf alcove. I tried to brush him after he had eaten and used the litter box, and he seemed less aggressive, but kept scooting back and pressing himself against the back edge of the bookshelf.
This specific event has basically been repeated in various different forms for the past week and a half. When I adopted Otis, I made a commitment to him to keep him and was committing to giving him a safe, loving environment. It hasn't even been two weeks, so the mere thought of even taking him back to the shelter absolutely kills me. His aggression has been what has instigated those thoughts, and it hurts me to say that because I know in my heart he's not an aggressive cat and this is probably a result of experiences of which I'm unaware. The woman we adopted him from expressed clearly that she just wants him to have a safe home and made it clear in the adoption contract that we promise to return him to her if we can't care for him for any reason. When he first started acting aggressive and refusing to come out into the open (which I have to clarify is not an exaggeration, I have literally not seen him upright, walking around and exploring, with the exception of the few times he thought I was asleep), I thought I would just persist with patience and love and see where he is in a month, if he seems more comfortable, but I'm scared for his well being and my own.
I've been crying over this because I feel so much guilt even thinking about wanting to return him, especially after so short a period of time. There is a horrible part of me that wishes I'd somehow chosen a friendlier, more affectionate cat, but I truly do just want him to not feel the need to be aggressive or so afraid to the point which he would starve himself all day until someone brought him food to his hiding place.
PLEASE share your thoughts and opinions! Me and this poor cat seem to be suffering greatly!
I've been contemplating adopting a cat for about a year now. Two weeks ago, I visited an animal shelter that exclusively houses cats. The woman who runs the shelter does so out of her own home (she lives on vast farmland, just for clarification) and she has over 150 cats living there. They wander throughout her home, around her property, and roughly 50% of them have some sort of disability, illness, or circumstance that calls for special care and attentiveness (for example, she keeps cats with FIV or FeLV in separate, enclosed areas, she has a large pen in her backyard for more aggressive feral cats that have not been socialized, and on a separate note, she has many cats with diabetes or degenerative disorders that she cares for). She knows each and every cats name without having to pause to think about it, so she definitely is dedicated to these little buggers.
Before visiting, I saw of her cats on PetFinder.com and was particularly taken by a two year old named Otis. Upon visiting the shelter, she informed me that Otis was born sometime around June 2013 an was abandoned with a large group of other kittens at a feral colony. He was trapped, and she adopted him when he was around five months old (November 2013). She told me he had obviously been socialized and was the friendliest of the group of three brothers he belongs to. Otis resided in "the palace," a large enclosed area with about 20-30 cats off to the side of the woman's property that contained a shed with a couch, several play structures and a good amount of room and high places for the cats to rest and play. I knew Otis was shy within the first few minutes of meeting him. He was under the couch (a place I now in hindsight think he rarely left). From the get-go he clearly didn't seem to be the most social cat ever, but I really didn't mind the shyness! She told me that he doesn't get a lot of socializing in "the palace," but that with a bag of treats, some time and TLC, he will turn into my best friend.
I looked around the shelter for about an hour or so, and maybe I just didn't ask enough questions or I wasn't direct enough, but she seemed to encourage my initial plan to visit and adopt Otis.
A little over a week ago, I brought Otis home. When we went to pick him up, I was a little anxious to see that he was under the couch again. I wondered if he ever got out to socialize with other cats. Otis is a beautiful, precious animal, and I know that re-homing is an intensely scary experience for all cats, but even after a week with him here, I'm starting to doubt whether he will ever feel completely comfortable in our home:
When we first brought Otis home, he reacted much like I believe any cat would: he mewed a lot in his carrier on the car ride home out of fear, he immediately hid in the first enclosed area he could find, and he didn't come out much to interact with us, but certain behaviors have really worried me and make me feel like he is living in constant fear and discomfort here, which is truly the last thing I want to subject him to. It's been roughly nine days of living here and Otis has refused to spend longer than five seconds out in the open and refuses to take a hiding spot that doesn't have four secure edges protecting him (the two main ones he uses are in between the bottom shelf of my bookshelf and my laundry basket and a box of where I keep undergarments & a shelf in our entertainment center, behind two statuettes that assure he isn't directly out in the open). We kept him my bedroom for the first few days, which is a relatively normal size (10 feet by 10 feet), and he's explored the rest of the apartment when everyone is asleep, which is how he discovered the alcove in the entertainment center, but he wouldn't even dream of coming out while anybody is awake, even while they're quietly sitting, reading. When we try to gently coax him out of his hiding spots, he has been hissing and clawing A LOT. I don't think he is necessarily aggressive at all, rather very scared or hungry, which breaks me to another issue. He refuses to eat his food out in the open or to use the litter box while there is another person nearby (which I think can be solved by buying him a hood, but the woman we adopted from insisted we initially use an open litter box). We've had to bring his food to his hiding spots, otherwise he refuses to come out and eat and ultimately becomes very aggressive. A couple days ago, after I had fallen asleep, Otis left his bookshelf alcove and moved to the entertainment center alcove where I found him the following morning. I set out some fresh food and his litter box was clean, but he didn't leave the entertainment center at all the entire time I was home that morning. Neither myself or anybody else were home between 12:30 and 5 PM. When I returned around five, I sat in front of the alcove and spoke to him softly and tried to coax him out. When I reached forward to give him a treat, he hissed and bite me. It was then I realized he hadn't eaten all day (I figured he had because nobody was home and he usually is fine when we're asleep or not around). I brought his food to his alcove and sat in my living room. The poor boy ate the entire bowl in a few minutes, quickly darted out to go use the litter box, and went back to his bookshelf alcove. I tried to brush him after he had eaten and used the litter box, and he seemed less aggressive, but kept scooting back and pressing himself against the back edge of the bookshelf.
This specific event has basically been repeated in various different forms for the past week and a half. When I adopted Otis, I made a commitment to him to keep him and was committing to giving him a safe, loving environment. It hasn't even been two weeks, so the mere thought of even taking him back to the shelter absolutely kills me. His aggression has been what has instigated those thoughts, and it hurts me to say that because I know in my heart he's not an aggressive cat and this is probably a result of experiences of which I'm unaware. The woman we adopted him from expressed clearly that she just wants him to have a safe home and made it clear in the adoption contract that we promise to return him to her if we can't care for him for any reason. When he first started acting aggressive and refusing to come out into the open (which I have to clarify is not an exaggeration, I have literally not seen him upright, walking around and exploring, with the exception of the few times he thought I was asleep), I thought I would just persist with patience and love and see where he is in a month, if he seems more comfortable, but I'm scared for his well being and my own.
I've been crying over this because I feel so much guilt even thinking about wanting to return him, especially after so short a period of time. There is a horrible part of me that wishes I'd somehow chosen a friendlier, more affectionate cat, but I truly do just want him to not feel the need to be aggressive or so afraid to the point which he would starve himself all day until someone brought him food to his hiding place.
PLEASE share your thoughts and opinions! Me and this poor cat seem to be suffering greatly!