This is the story of how a self-described “not-a-cat person” started to feel more compassionate towards a cat…to the point of bringing him into her home. What could possibly make someone who referred to the feline species as the “spawns of Satan” have such a change of heart?
Our neighborhood has it’s fair share of stray cats, and they make their grand reappearance every spring (where are they all winter, I wonder?). Whenever I saw one, I’d scare it off. Then, a little over a year ago, a black and white cat started hanging out between our house and our neighbor’s house. Our neighbors (who already had an indoor cat) began feeding him, so he stuck around. Moo, as I started to call him, was there most of the day, and would sleep in their planter at night. On the rare occasion that he didn’t return for the evening, I’d get a bit worried.
There were a couple of strays that would come through to bully Moo. And on the afternoon of April 28, 2009 (exactly a year ago) it came to a head. I saw Moo walk around to the other side of our neighbor’s house, a minute later heard a screech in the alley, and then saw Moo come back around with a bleeding tail. One of those cat bullies had attacked him! The poor guy sat there licking his wound for a while, but when I took out my camera, he posed for a few pictures for me. Uh, oh… I was starting to soften up…
See the blood on his right cheek he got from licking his wound???
But what really pushed me over the line, was his reaction (or lack thereof) to Moxie. Every other stray we had previously encountered on walks would either run away or hiss at the sight of her. Moo, on the other hand, just sat there. He would let Moxie get right up in his face without a swat or a sound. I would have never considered bringing him in if I didn’t think he and Moxie would get along.
Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
I thought it would be a shame to allow a cat with such a seemingly calm temperament to remain on the streets to get “ruined”…or worse. So we got a trap from the vet (they required it, since Moo was considered feral), made an appointment to bring him in, and hoped he would be around that morning so we could lure him into it.
Poor guy didn’t know what was going on.
But after all that trauma, it didn’t take long for him to make himself at home.
And the rest, as they say, is history…