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After reading a recent thread in another TCS forum, it struck me that a great many of our members have successfully brought formerly feral cats into their homes and into their Lives, yet I can find no trace of a thread in the Photos Forums for former ferals and their success stories.
Let's see those former ferals - those beautiful kitties who everyone told us would never end up as housecats - who were too wild and too set in their ways ever to find peace in the safety of someone's home.
I'll start with White Tip, to whom I sometimes refer as, "the wildest of them all." In a Lifetime of working with and living with feral cats, she was by far the toughest nut of all. Trapped with her Son, Oz, it took my veterinarian, myself and a vet tech just to capture her inside the confines of a very small building so she could be spayed and vetted, and blood was shed before she was safe in a transport carrier.
My vet is an old Friend, and he's not the sort of fellow who ever gives up on an animal, but when he brought Oz and White Tip back after their surgery, he told me in no uncertain terms that she would never trust Humans and would never be an housecat. "Let her go in the yard when she's healed," was his advice.
A few months later, there was a terrible windstorm on Hallowe'en night, and worried about the old Spruce tree against their little building, I managed to get her into one of her many hidey-boxes and slip another box over it. I sealed it with tape while she hissed and hollered, and finally picked Oz up under one arm, and managed to move them both into the house, and into the upstairs office.
What followed was two years of hissing, scratching and biting, which eventually wore down to nothing. I'd pick her up, she'd attack, and I'd hold her as long as I could. Finally one day as I sat on the floor with her, after her breakfast, something magical clicked inside her head. She came to me for the first time, and when I reached down, she never made a sound. I must have held her for an hour that morning, and over the next two weeks, I introduced her to the other cats, whom she'd only met through the door.
It's funny - my veterinarian always asked about her, assuming that I'd released her and was feeding her on the property as a feral. "Seen that white tipped cat lately?" It always made me smile. Then one night he dropped over for wings and pizza, and while we sat, he asked about her as he often did. She was still shy, but knew her name by then, and I took a chance and called her. Presently, there she was on the last stair, looking at us warily. "Come here," I said - "there's chicken," and a moment later, there she was beside me, taking a scrap of chicken from between my fingers.
This is only one of the countless success stories I've read by TCS members - of how some wild, untamed kitty had come inside, and had at last became a member of a Family. If ever anyone tells you to give up on a cat, tell them that you can't give up, because you know the magic words. The words aren't really magic, but they make magic happen everywhere they're said, by everyone who knows them: "Love conquers all."
It does, you know. Now let's see those former feral cats in all their glory!
.
Let's see those former ferals - those beautiful kitties who everyone told us would never end up as housecats - who were too wild and too set in their ways ever to find peace in the safety of someone's home.
I'll start with White Tip, to whom I sometimes refer as, "the wildest of them all." In a Lifetime of working with and living with feral cats, she was by far the toughest nut of all. Trapped with her Son, Oz, it took my veterinarian, myself and a vet tech just to capture her inside the confines of a very small building so she could be spayed and vetted, and blood was shed before she was safe in a transport carrier.
My vet is an old Friend, and he's not the sort of fellow who ever gives up on an animal, but when he brought Oz and White Tip back after their surgery, he told me in no uncertain terms that she would never trust Humans and would never be an housecat. "Let her go in the yard when she's healed," was his advice.
A few months later, there was a terrible windstorm on Hallowe'en night, and worried about the old Spruce tree against their little building, I managed to get her into one of her many hidey-boxes and slip another box over it. I sealed it with tape while she hissed and hollered, and finally picked Oz up under one arm, and managed to move them both into the house, and into the upstairs office.
What followed was two years of hissing, scratching and biting, which eventually wore down to nothing. I'd pick her up, she'd attack, and I'd hold her as long as I could. Finally one day as I sat on the floor with her, after her breakfast, something magical clicked inside her head. She came to me for the first time, and when I reached down, she never made a sound. I must have held her for an hour that morning, and over the next two weeks, I introduced her to the other cats, whom she'd only met through the door.
It's funny - my veterinarian always asked about her, assuming that I'd released her and was feeding her on the property as a feral. "Seen that white tipped cat lately?" It always made me smile. Then one night he dropped over for wings and pizza, and while we sat, he asked about her as he often did. She was still shy, but knew her name by then, and I took a chance and called her. Presently, there she was on the last stair, looking at us warily. "Come here," I said - "there's chicken," and a moment later, there she was beside me, taking a scrap of chicken from between my fingers.
This is only one of the countless success stories I've read by TCS members - of how some wild, untamed kitty had come inside, and had at last became a member of a Family. If ever anyone tells you to give up on a cat, tell them that you can't give up, because you know the magic words. The words aren't really magic, but they make magic happen everywhere they're said, by everyone who knows them: "Love conquers all."
It does, you know. Now let's see those former feral cats in all their glory!
.
)
