« Churchill! | Main | "an object of rationalized control and management" »

May 27, 2005

Looking over the precipice

Beloved Partner and I are agreed: we want to capture Fred and bring him inside. The capturing should be pretty easy: he's gotten accustomed to being quite close to us. And he has spent a lot of time just one pane of glass away from the indoor cats; they are all pretty well acquainted now. Last night Fred nearly broke our hearts: he was sitting on the porch rail, exchanging pleasantries with Luigi through the window. BP was standing beside Luigi, and when he reach down to pet her, Fred was alarmed and ran several feet away, certain that BP was going to injure Luigi. Then he turned and saw that Luigi was enjoying being stroked. BP said that Fred was clearly amazed—and curious.

Just now we were out working in the garden, and he was following us around (at a respectable distance), meowing when we looked at him. He wanted us to come feed him. So when we went into the house I came back out with a can of the food he loves. And while he ate, he let me stand right beside him, leaning over and talking to him, my face just a foot from his head.

So we have a call into our Treasured Vet, and when we have his procedural advice, we'll start what we hope will become the Domestication of Fred. Film at eleven.

Update:

Now I've talked to TVo0000000=]9[[[[[[[[ (whoops; that's Luigi's comment on this whole deal. Let me try again:

Now I've talked to Treasured Vet, who says we are not insane to try to adopt a feral but that we'll have to take it slow and be patient. Get him as accustomed to and trusting of us as possible before the Great Event. Put a cat carrier on the back porch and get him accustomed to having his food in it. Get him accustomed to coming into the back room of the house. Once we get him to the vet's, TV will test Fred for FIV and leukemia, and if he's clean, he'll be fixed.

We also have to prepare for ongoing spraying. Once he's been neutered, it may take as much as 12 weeks for the testosterone levels to abate, and some cats never do quit spraying altogether. Lordie pie. TV says that Feliway plug-ins will help; we'll stock up, and soon.

Posted by senioritis at May 27, 2005 01:52 PM

Comments

oh, goodie! I can't wait! Whatever will Geraldine do?

Posted by: aerobil at May 27, 2005 02:14 PM

She'd better check with her astrologer and her therapist, I think, cuz if we're successful with Fred, Geraldine will be the next project.

Posted by: senioritis at May 27, 2005 02:52 PM

I'm excited to see how the new addition to the family does :-)

Posted by: dr. b. at May 27, 2005 09:09 PM

We've actually successfully adopted a feral before—our first cat, Killer. A beautiful white calico, about 6 months old when she found us. She wouldn't let us near her for several years. We broke down her defenses by petting her while she was eating. Eventually she became an incredibly loving, trusting friend.

Fred, OTOH, is not young. (I'll be very interested to see what the vet says about his age.) And he is not desperate to get into our house, as Killer was (even though she didn't want to be touched). But he is very much oriented to us and increasingly curious and trusting. So we'll see how lucky, patient, and skilled we are with this one. We figure at the very least we'll be able to neuter and release, and that's a fine thing to do with a feral who won't domesticate. But I think he will. I think he will. I think he will.

Posted by: senioritis at May 27, 2005 09:25 PM

I'm thinking that you'll soon have another trusted house cat. Fred sounds like he realizes that he's got loving pets in his future. As a former cat owner I was always strangely aware that I was the one who was the well trained pet in that relationship :-)

Posted by: dr. b. at May 29, 2005 09:44 AM

LOL. Yes, BP and I have been carefully trained for 25 years by 3 generations of cats. We're ready to serve Fred's every whim and abide by his every rule.

Posted by: senioritis at May 29, 2005 10:02 AM

We've taken in two feral cats. One had been abandoned (or its mother had) in a state forest, and had survived the winter there alone. We first saw it in a tree, by moonlight, yowling - caught it in a live-trap with tuna, took it to the vet for shots, and it became our daughter's best friend. Adric never fully became an indoors cat, and was killed by a car, crossing a road to hunt mice in an empty barn.

Rudyard Kitling was a stray at the Apple Festival farm one exceedingly cold Jan, and was determined to come inside a house full of very allergic, feline-phobic people. We again did the rescue, but immediately found a foster home - which brought the cat back in a few weeks, because it beat up the other cats in the house so badly. He bit people as well, and was spooked by everything. He's a honey now, loves sitting on laps, and curls up daily with our daughter's cat, an ocecat (sp?) for naps. One very important tool for helping him calm down (taught to us by the foster-owner, who'd done a lot of cat-psych research) was "kitty jail". When he couldn't handle himself, was too spooked by noise and people, and began attacking, a laundry basket upended over him gave him a safe place to calm down - he could look out, but not touch or be touched.

clo

Posted by: Carolyn Ostrander at June 7, 2005 08:47 AM