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So, we have Little Bit in, the kittens are fitting in nicely.  We've had rain, lots of rain.  Not record rain, but it won't be too long until we get it.  On Monday, October 18th, it was raining. I looked out and saw a fluffy black cat at the office sliding door.  Hmm, who could this be?  I see Jackie on one of the cat trees, his normal day spot.  I look around for all the smaller black cats, thinking maybe one of them was outside and hissy because of the rain.  Nope, all inside and accounted for.  Odd.  Who is that cat?
 
It was drizzling outside.  It was daytime and I went out back to see if I could find the cat. I did.  I found it under the pool pump, huddled against the back wall, too far and too dark for me to get a good look at it.  I came inside and got a flashlight and a can of Friskies.  I opened the can and laid down on the wet platform.  I shined the flashlight at the cat and started tossing fingers full of food at it.  Sagwa helped eat the food.  The cat didn't hiss or growl, but did meow quietly a few times.  It wouldn't come to me.
 
Monday night, I left out a bowl full of dry food on the patio, in a spot out of the rain.  Tuesday morning, all of the food was gone.  I looked around for the cat and didn't see it.  I figured it had gotten out.  Later, I did a more thorough search and found it under the deck of the doghouse on the bank.  I wasn't able to reach it, but with some more Friskies food, it slowly came towards the fragrant scent of salmon.  I was able to touch its face and there was no hissing.  This cat wasn't a feral.  At one point, someone had owned this cat.
 
I waited patiently for the cat to move a little more forward and once it was within my reach, it was also within my grasp.  I brought it inside, cuddled in my arms.  It made a weak attempt at escape, but didn't try too hard.  I didn't feel any claws and I did feel testicles.  This upset me to the point of tears.  No claws, but not fixed.  Luckily, as I found out later, he did still have claws, they were just very, very worn down. 
 
On October 19, 2004, Chandler came to live with us.  He spent his first couple of nights under the bed.  I gave him food and water and a blanket to lay on.  He ate, he slept, he recuperated.  He was affectionate, but wary.  Wary of humans.  I gave him Advantage and the fleas died.  He did have tapeworms, which I'd have to get medicine for.
 
On his first vet visit, October 26, the vet proclaimed him to be about seven years old and in really good condition.  He gave him some Droncit for the tapes and said that it would appear that he hadn't been on his own for all that long because he'd be in worse shape if he had been.  He hadn't been in any obvious fights, no scarring or wounds.  The vet supposed that Chandler had most likely been an indoor cat, then got put out for some reason.  His parting words were "he's a good cat, you've got a keeper".
 
He got neutered on October 27 and he's finally starting to spend a little more time out of hiding.  This morning, he actually walked up to me so that I could scratch his neck and rub his face (which he loves).  Hopefully, it won't be too long before he's out and about with everyone else.
 
I can't imagine why he's so afraid of humans, but I can't think that it's a good reason.  With any luck, he'll realize that he's in no danger from us here, we won't hurt him.  And I think once he figures that out, he'll be a wonderful loving addition to our home.

 


 

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