CC was laying down and I thought I'd be brave. Take the chance to try and pet him. And then he ran away. Except he ran away to a countertop in the bathroom where I could easily pet him. Then he started purring very loudly. So I decided to pick him up. And he went for it. It's very hard to pick up a CC. But he let me do it!
CC originally arrived as a feral cat that could not be tamed. Our goal was to let him know that he had a home base he could get food at and maybe partner him up with another feral orange boy that was also problematic.
A year ago he was living in a kennel in my bedroom too angry to accept pettings. And here he is purring loudly in my arms.
I had an ex years ago who rescued what was basically a feral kitten that she found crying under a shed in a friend's backyard. He was theorized to be the son of an apparently notoriously-feral neighborhood cat that the local kids dubbed "House Tornado" due to the inevitable results for anyone who dared to try to take her in.
That cat was insane and would claw and bite the shit out of you. He would also harass the shit out of her other, older cat. I didn't grow up with cats, but my ex did, and she knew how to treat this cat, and I learned so much from it.
Sure enough, after a few years of bites and scratches, he slowly chilled out. He would still sometimes forget mid-pets and lose his shit for a moment, before remembering that it was ok and calming back down. Which was funny because the insane look wouldn't leave his eyes lol. And he wasn't always cool around strangers at first, before coming around.
Still probably my favorite cat I've ever interacted with. There really is something rewarding about winning over a feral cat lol
When the cat lets you know they’re still a cat and shant be broken … but you’re alright
They make you earn it way more than other cats, but that trust is rock solid.
My first kitten was feral. I still have scars. She ate from my palm, no I should clarify — she demanded to be fed from my palm. She'd routinely clean me, just lick lick lick with that sandpaper tongue.
She was my cat, and distinctly my cat. She died in my arms and I've never cried harder. She was worth it, though. She'd have been there for me if the situation was reversed.