Trying to keep in mind this is only his second day here I went to his crate hopeful but prepared for no change. When dealing with a cat like Sal you have to remember this isn't a movie, we hope for the best - but expect the worst. He was still in his cubby but signs of his Upper Respiratory Infection became less subtle and more prevalent. Mucus crusted around his nose, although thankfully the sneezing hasn't started yet.
He still hadn't gone to the bathroom or eaten a bite. I had some salmon in the fridge from dinner 2 nights ago so I decided to warm that up and see if the stronger smell would urge him to eat. I brought him another offering of food and he was back to his hissing - although he did not growl. I choose to take this as a sign of him easing up. Sometimes we see things as we want - not always how they really are but it helps us to keep going.
Brooklyn, my colony leader slept in the bed closest to his crate. She is not the most welcoming and tends to give all the others a good swat when they come too close but her instinct seemed to have caused her to back down in her alpha role.
Brooklyn is a lovely "feral rescue" story, but a simple one. Likely once a house cat, she ended up on the streets of Brooklyn which was my home for 25 years. I have been gone from Brooklyn for a while now and the rescue I worked with at the time (here in Putnam Valley) had a volunteer who worked in Brooklyn. She saw this pregnant cat, took her in for her to have her babies safely and then she was going to have her spay and release her back to where she was found. She knew I was looking to begin a colony and she asked me if I would like her. Who am I to say no? So, "Big Momma" became mine, and she became Brooklyn. She eased me into the world of feral colonies very nicely and spoiled me. She was the PERFECT barn cat. She would work with me in the garden and follow me around for all of my "outside chores" with the chickens, duck and rabbits. She is a wonderful cat who is quite friendly - although she prefers the outside. She had no interest in coming into my home. She is happy sleeping in her bed in the garage and bringing me mice and small birds when she knows I am sad. She has become my confidant with whom I enjoy talking about the ups and downs of my life. She is a diligent listener and although will tolerate being picked up for a hug, she prefers her belly being rubbed.
Today we ran some errands. The animal handling gloves I ordered won't arrive until Wednesday so I went to PetSmart looking for a pair to hold me over until then, but they do not carry them. I left instead with some treats and some holistic remedies that are supposed to calm cats down. I am new to the holistic world and I have never dealt with an aggressive cat with this kind of a background so I am happy to try anything...next on our errands was Home Depot where I picked up a pair of Welder's Gloves.
I couldn't wait to get home! I wanted to "suit up" and get my paws on his paws. At the very least clean those leaky eyes and that crusty nose. I walked to his crate feeling good and I came back in the house sobbing quietly.
I reached my hand out to him and rest it just in front of him. I am aware the gloves do not make matters much better but they are a necessity for the time being. I leave a hand there and I talk to Sal gently. I told him about my find in Home Depot and he just glares at me. He doesn't look down to my hand and keeps his eyes on mine as I continue to prattle on about the whole day. What we did, where we went and I even told him about the strange woman we saw in one store. I laughed a little as I recounted her conversation with an employee and I thought for a moment I saw the tension in his back ease - but the second he saw my hand move he was back on the defense.
I finally tried to reach out to him an attempt to grab him by his scruff and just clean all the crud away from his face. I half expected him to sigh and fall into my hand but I know this is not going to be easy, and I am right. He hisses, growls, spits and claws repeatedly at my gloved hands. I try to reassure him but it is falling on deaf ears. He flies out of the cubby and into the litter box... I am hoping him being in the open will benefit this attempt.
I reach out to pet him hoping that the touch of a kind hand will put him at ease. I hope beyond all hope - because when we do things like this in our lives - what keeps us going is the hope beyond all hope. I am hopeful of him relaxing immediately under my touch, that he is able to feel every ounce of love I have for him and that he will sense I will forever protect him, love him and provide for him.
But when we do things like this, we know fairy tales don't happen in 2 days. He growls again and begins to tremble and sway back and forth rhythmically. I know the fear is overwhelming and I refuse to be the cause of it for him. I retract my hand, close the crate, beg him to please come out of the litter box and back into his cubby and I PLEAD with him to eat something. I mixed in a teaspoon of the "Calming" liquid in his water and I tell him again that he is loved, he is safe and I am ok waiting for him to be ready. We have nothing but time, and no where to be. That has become our second mantra... nothing but time and no where to be.
Not every step in our journey will be easy, or happy -- but they are steps that we must take or we will never reach the destination..
