A Walk With Ms. Kitty

When Malcomb died, the neighbor on the other side, Ray, continued to put food out for her, but when Malcomb's house was sold, the new folks moved in with two fine hunting dogs who had never learned to accept cats, and figured this cat was fair game. Sissie and Dick, the new neighbors, fenced in the back yard for the dogs; Sissie tried to feed the cat in the front yard, but she and her husband knew that if they got too friendly with the cat the dogs would eventually kill her. Ms. Kitty seemed to feel the need to stay on my side of the neighbors as her birthplace was under the house between our house and theirs and that was her headquarters. Under that house was her haven. This house is not occupied but on a few weekends of the year and when they noticed a cat running under their house, they blocked the intrance as they were afraid that the cat would raise a litter there and the neighborhood would be, again, filled with ferral cats. I explained to the Mrs. that the cat was spayed and that she was so wild she wouldn't know where else to go. She graciously removed the block and Ms. Kitty still uses that as her main home.

Ivan and I have been her friends for about a year now and that is still her "safe Place."

It took over three months for her to have enough confidence in me to allow me to touch her; at least two months before she would come within arms length. Then one day as I sat there humming to her as she ate from the bowl, she looked up at me and layed down and rolled over as if she wanted me to pet her. Such a surprise! Now, while she almost demands us to pet her, and will curl up in my lap and nap until I have to put her down, she is still the hunter and the lurker and the loner. She is extremely wary of all noises, dogs, other cats, ceiling fans, vacuam cleaners, the dishwasher, the furnace, the airconditioner, other people... She folows me out to the car and will also sleep under it, but when I start it she is off like a streak of lightning.She likes, almost begs us, to take walks with her in our yard. Since we have been feeding her and loving her we have never seen her leave our yard. When outside, she manages to stay in an area where she can make a fast retreat to her "Safe Place."

I have tried to teach her to play. She has never learned to play, like with a ball, a stuffed mouse, a ball of yarn, a string... She was never a kitten. She had to be grown up to survive until Malcom realized she was alone, trapped her, had her spade and started taking care of her. She is a survivor. Perhaps one day she will learn to play. She is intelligent or she would not have survived as long as she did. I mentioned her big eyes. She has the yellowest eyes imaginable and she seems to stare clear through you, never blinking. She will close her eyes if she is comfortable and wants to relax, other wise no blinking. It is hard to tell what she is thinking as her stare is so intense. It is as if she is reading your thoughts and expecting you to read hers.