Whoa, White Kitty (Bam-ba-lam)

Over the past several months, the Awesome Boyfriend and I have noticed a fully-grown, perfectly snow white cat hanging around.  She ... no, we don't KNOW if the cat is a "she" but that's how we refer to her ... it ... the cat.) Anyway she seems to live under the neighbors stairs, and finds shelter at the base of a HUGE pine tree in the front yard.  She is very, very timid, 'tho I don't think she's completely wild.  She likes to hunt in the backyard, and because of her coat, we can see her in the very dark nightfall, bounding about among the leaves and whatnot.

Tabby, our cat, sees her from time to time, too.  We know this because she'll bound from sitting on the back of the sofa in the living room to sitting on the trash container in our kitchen, and when I try to relax her and remind her that she's the queen of this household, she'll grumble at me.  Tabby knows.  She realizes that I'm a sucker for animals.  Especially animals who have lost their faith in human-kind.  She sees me leave with another can of food, or the container of dry cat food that we shake to get her attention, and Tabby realizes that I won't be satisfied with just feeding this interloper.

It'll start that way, 'tho.  It already has.  I feed "white kitty" (we haven't found the right name yet) at least twice a day.  Sometimes I just walk over and give her fresh water, and a lot of times I just wanna see if she's around.  It's a very slow process, trying to gain an animals trust.  You can't make sudden movements or loud noises.  You can't push your way in - you need to be invited.

But today was a milestone morning.  I couldn't get back to sleep after the Awesome Boyfriend left for work, so I started my day earlier than usual.  It was still dark when I went to the coffee shop, and I didn't want to startle "white kitty" if she was sleeping on the porch, so I decided to feed her when I got back.

It was lighter out when I returned, so I started off with the container of crunchies towards the porch.  "White kitty" was sitting on the railing, and when I shook the container to get her attention, she looked right at me.  I said good morning in a low voice and slowed my pace, to allow her time to hide under the stairs, as she typically does.

I dropped a few crunchies at the stairs, left a small pile on top of the table, another small pile on the railing where she'd just been, and refilled her container near the front door.  And then I sat down on the bench on the corner of the porch.

She peaked out from the stairs and I told her that I wasn't gonna try anything stupid.  She very hesitantly (but quickly) ate up the kibble on the stairs, and then looked at me as if to say "I'm trusting you here - don't blow it", and very very hesitantly she moved towards her bowl.  Which wasn't all that far away from my feet.

I didn't make eye contact with her - I wanted her to feel like she was undetected - and she started eating.  We sat there for a while, maybe 10 minutes or so, during which she'd eat for a bit, and then sneak a glance at me, and then she'd return to eating.

Anyway, it was a major victory for us both.  I respected her boundaries and she gave me a shot at being trusted.

Tabby has nothing to worry about.  It will be at least a few seasons - if ever - before I'm allowed to pet "white kitty", let alone asking her if she wants to come indoors.  But we both made progress today.

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(Thanks to the Awesome Boyfriend for the title of today's babble.  It's what he says whenever I say anything about "white kitty".)

Pearls of Wisdom

I'll bet that we've all heard a lot of apologies that ... aren't.

Someone saying "I'm sorry you're upset" - for instance - isn't the "offender" apologizing for said "offense".  No no - they're apologizing at the offended's low tolerance level for whatever they found so ... offensive ... in the first place.  Kinda like saying "I'm sorry you're upset that I wrecked your car" isn't the same as saying "I'm sorry I wrecked your car".

And I got to thinking about all this today after I read (and giggled over) the following:



I'm sorry if you found this strip offensive.

Whoops!

So I was gonna write about being accident prone.  How, as a child, I had a habit of getting myself into situations where I was destined to be injured and that now, as an adult, I have a propensity of cutting corners too sharply, scraping my shins while exiting from vehicles, and conking myself on the head when I know damn well to duck in that part of the basement.

Yes, yes I was gonna write about that.

So we'd had dinner and were relaxing in the living room.  We were enjoying a bit of downtime when, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the cat had wandered into the space between the sofa and the wall, next to where The Awesome Boyfriend was seated.  She has been known to sit there, under the side-table at times, so this wasn't a new maneuver for her.  After a few minutes, The Awesome Boyfriend turned to me and said "hey - is the cat behind us?"

Thus began a 20-minute stress-filled, furniture moving exercise whereby we needed to figure out how our feline had climbed up into our couch and, far more importantly, how we were going to assist in her removal from it.  It wasn't until we started to urgently call for her, shine flashlights underneath the couch, and move it into the middle of the room that she started to meow rather strongly, probably more reacting to our increasing nervousness than any discomfort she was feeling.

Anyway so yes - I was going to write about my being a klutz but had to set that aside because our couch was trying to eat our cat.

It's nice to know that it runs in the family.
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(Follow Up:  The feline in question is perfectly fine and is blissfully slumbering in her bed, having chomped down on the large handful of treats she received after FINALLY emerging from our couch.  We, on the other hand, are still recovering from the stress, worry, and immediate response needed to ensure her safe extraction from what is clearly a cat-eating sofa.)