Ok, since little the little guy is hanging around and is really starting to count this as home, and me as his Pootie daddy, I will tell his story. NOTE: The reason I call him “The Duke” is he is a stickler for Protocols in greeting, as I will show in the main body.
The Duke has been around in the backyard for nearly 3 years or more. He would simply pass through, and would always ‘run’ when I came out of the back door. I would talk gently to him and he would often stand still and look at me while I talked to him. I am pretty sure he was someone’s fur baby and this was all before the Pandemic.
His two favorite places were the planter box shown in the picture. With the grasses high, and plenty of green around. He will spend all day through out the year, warming the small pootie bones in the sun. Occasionally I would jar him awake, startled as I trimmed the back yard or moved things around. I would usually earn a ‘sour look’ before he would take off. I had disturbed his nap donchaknow.
And before this year, I never gave him much thought really. Just a nice warm tone of voice, no chasing him away. He didn’t bother the birds, they knew him by sight and kept him on their radar. If he moved, the alarm went off and everyone scattered. So he posed no real danger to the critters around. Nobody messes with the two red squirrels who also share the feed box with the pigeons, doves, blue jays, finches, sparrows, not to mention the humming birds in the pear tree and the other species of birds. Oh and for a short time ‘one chicken’ who wasn’t mine.
Then last year as fall came along, I started noticing him more and more, sleeping in the grasses in the planter box, huddled up in the cold, but still not ‘trusting enough’ to hang around if he saw me coming. I still tried to give him as much space as possible, talking to him so he knew that he wasn’t being chased away. He would often stay, and then when I would leave the area, he would go back to sleeping.
Then winter came, still he would lay in the grass where the sun could warm him slightly, hiding from view of us Hoomans. I became concerned because it wasn’t just daytime anymore, now it was also night time. A couple of times I came upon him long after the sun had set hiding in the grass. The day came (when I made the decision to either find his family or adopt him) and it was freezing ass cold, with rain and wind. No creature should have to stay out in that weather but I was still no were near being ‘safe to him’.
I came out in the back yard as I was concerned for him and there he was, just under the plastic table I had put in the planter box during the summer, where he would love to sleep in the day. It was cold, wet, and windy and there he was, looking at me not wanting to move but not wanting to stay so I talked to him gently and told him he was welcome to stay and then left him so he wouldn’t leave. It was the only comfort I could give him and I knew then he no longer had a home. No creature that has a warm home, with food would be out in that weather.
The next day I bought a cardboard moving box from Home Depot, set it up, wrapped it in a 50 Gallon Yard Trash bag, got an old, clean fresh washed shop towel and put that inside and stuck it under the table. Slight turned so that at least it would raise him above the wet grass and would keep the majority of the wind off him.
A few days later, I could see he had used it. There was the outline of where he laid in the towel. I went got a memory foam pillow and put that under a fresh towel, as the first one had become soaked from the grass. I also took two 50 gallon Trash bags and laid them on the table, held in place with bricks and draped them down the sides of the table to form a minimum ‘wind break’. Also around that time, I began to leave meow mix out for him, along with a bowl of fresh water. So pretty soon, he came to know my smell, and would only look at me with sleepy eyes, slowly closing as I talked to him, telling me he was giving me some trust and he was staying.
By that point, I knew it was time to move forward. When I took out the food, I made sure he knew I was coming out and would hold the plate of food out in front me, rattling it, so he could hear it. This is when we begin our little Ritual. He would be sitting on the edge of the planter box, tall and proud. When the Back door opened and I stepped out, he would jump down into the planter box and hide in the plant behind him in the picture. I would see the little grey face poke out, I would get a “Grrr-Hiss-understood ‘he was independent’ but was accepting my offers of food as courtesy only and apologizing for having to remind me of it. He was looking rather ragged about then, and he was very slow moving, like he didn’t have a lot of energy.
So I would leave the water and food, and walk back about 3 yards. He would come out of the bush, slowly and gently climb on the ledge, and then eat everything I put out for him. It was obvious he was a very, very hungry little guy. This was still Late December, very early Jan. As the days went by, I would stand a little closer to the food, until at one point I would stand right there by the food. I would get the “Hiss; Grrr-Mew” but he would come out and eat as I stood there (and still often get it to this day, it’s a formality but now its a “Hss, Grrr-mew” and then a purr).
Then came Jan 16th, and I had been feeding him solidly now for the better part of a three weeks, and he was even at the point where He would ‘set some aside for later’. That didn’t always work out due to winds, rain, critters and so on, but I always made sure there was breakfast and dinner. By this time the routine was ‘stand on the edge of the planter, wait for me to come out, look directly at me, then turn deliberately and slowly go into his bush. When I got to the edge of the planter I speak and hold the plate up, he would go “HissGrrrrMew”, then he come out. I would offer my hands for him to sniff, so he could tell it was me and that I was not meaning any harm, he would sniff, cough a couple of time, then climb up on the ledge and eat.
So, while he was there eating, I put my hand down for him to sniff, and then touched his head. He was startled at first, and gave me a Grrrrrr, but didn’t leave and kept eating. So from that point on, I was able to ‘give him a touch on the head, and maybe a gentle pet, or rub the ears’. I always got the Grrr, and one time he actually stopped eating to give me a hiss, because he wanted to eat with out pets, so I stopped and left him. it was around this time I noted his fur was rather stiff, and appeared brittle so he needed some better food. I begin to get ‘food’ for the skin and fur.
Then a week later, I came out and he came over, we did the “Hiss,GRR,Mew” real quick, I put my hands down for him to sniff, he did, and then he gave me a head bump on my hands. He was so happy to see me. I actually got in about 5 good pets, he was purring, and then I got the ‘grrr’ to stop. Since then we repeat the formalities but he is now leaning into me, and I can pet him with both hands, still gently as I suspect he still gets into fight on occasions so I want to be sure I don’t cause him pain touching a sore spot.
Some interesting points during this time. One time I had come out with the food, and was he was so happy he head bumped my hand with the plate and caused it to spill the food. I swear I a saw a look of “Oh shit, I just screwed up my lunch ticket” cross his face. He seemed he was really ‘worried’ that he had just lost his meal ticket and he even had backed up a couple of feet and was looking at me, disappointed as only a cat can but it really seemed he was expecting me to yell at him. I can only imagine that it had happened before, where he was happy and bumped something causing it to spill and got yelled at. I was just so surprised by his look when it happened cause I swear it was the same expression of every small child who just dropped their ice cream cone on the sidewalk. If cats could cry, I swear he would have.
So I took the plate, got some more food, and brought it back to him speaking in nice gentle tones. He wasn’t sure at first, but then he realized he was still going to get lunch and not be punished. He was so happy he came over, butted my hands without the plate (he let me put it down first) and gave me a “Hiss, Grrr, Mew and Purr” like three times while rubbing my hands and leaning into me as I petted him by then, his coat was soft and fluffy like cotton so it was like petting a Dakin Doll. He was trying to tell me how happy he was. That was when I realized he was actually trying to vocalize to me. When pooties talk, I listen cause they don’t waste breath on people who are not “important to them”, except for Queen Fiona. I get crabbed at for everything. If the birds aren’t the right color, or the food is not right, or there is something wrong somewhere in the world….
Another time, it was one of those cold, damp, but not windy days and as I came out the back door, he turned, looked me, looked at the plate. He turned around as he “Grrr-Hissed” stepped down, stopped, and turned around like “Screw that, I am hungry” and climbed back onto the planter box edge to wait for me reach him with the food. That was the day I got to pet him for about full minute.
So now as each week goes by, we learn a little more about each other. At one point, I was petting him “a little too much”. He had given me a “Gr-hs’ (though it was more of a very quiet one) while I was busy petting both his sides at once. He was actually leaning into me and head bumping me. He turned, opened his mouth, put it against my arm then lipped it like he was ‘biting me’. He did it twice to make sure I understood this was not an accident. He really wanted to finish his meal in peace, and he was trying to tell me ever so gently, so I left him there to eat in peace. Other wise he looks forward to the “eats and pets” in the morning.
Hopefully it won’t take all that long to the point where he will allow m to actually pick him up. Eventually I need to take to him to the vets. I know he is at least 4 years old, and I suspect around 6, so he has few years left. Hopefully we can get him to trust us enough to be able to fully care for him. Each day is building a little more trust, and little more ‘love’. There is no doubt that he was someones family fur baby, but I don’t know what happened to them. He may still find his way back to a family that has missed him, but each passing day is one more where I think his family is gone and he was lost. Either they moved out of the area, or (God Forbid) passed on due this stupid pandemic, something happened and this little one was without anyone to give him love and a home.
Pooties who are accepted at this Forever home, are not turned away.
2022/03/13 — Little update. I am at the point of trust, that I can use the cat brush on him while he is eating. He doesn’t like the metal with the plastic balls on the end, he likes the Bristle Brush and will sometimes make the Grrr/Purrr while eating so it comes out. First time I have heard a cat in person do that.
And the last couple of days, I think he has come to the back door, where I come out to feed him. I don’t know if he looking to come in or not, but we would have to make sure ‘she’ doesn’t sneak out with him. Those cats and their morals, The queen could have “duke” for partner. :)