by Nightstormy » Sat Jun 06, 2015 3:32 am
I walk around the streets to come across a molly cat. She was muddy, scared, and appeared to be wounded. I wanted to give her a good pat, perhaps even try to clean her up, though since she was completely feral, doing so would be a bad choice. The cat was completely fluffed out, and it was obvious her tail was a lot bigger than it normally is. After a couple of days with just simply putting food out for her, I decided to get a little closer with her. The cat wanted to be hidden and away from me, I could tell. But I carefully lowered myself to the ground, staying a safe distance away (just barely out of scratching range). I slowly blink my eyes, attempting to show I wasn't any harm. I moved around slowly, so I wouldn't scare her. Her eyes were dilated, so I slowly pushed over something that was mine. It would have my 'scent' on it, after all. The feral cat slowly cranes her neck towards the object once I step back, sniffing at it. I couldn't tell if she was at all calmer. A couple of minutes later, I blink my eyes slowly again, and reach out my hand. I keep it relaxed and slow, but once my hand got closer to them, they hissed. They weren't ready to trust me. I nod and walk away for the day, coming back the next. I repeat the same thing I did the day before, by feeding them, blinking slowly, offering something that was mine to them, and finally reaching my hand out. Still no sign of trust. I'll come back tomorrow. I keep this process on for a whole month, and by early June, I repeat my process once more. This time, instead of lashing out at my hand, or hissing out of fear or aggression, this feral cat comes up and rubs their head against my hand. She purred for only a couple of seconds, tail held high and not as fluffed out as before. I wanted to pet her some more, but she only allowed me to pet her a couple of times before crawling back to her hiding spot. Her eyes weren't as dilated, and she didn't seem near as frightened or aggressive as before. I wait for about an hour, making sure not to stare at her a whole lot. When I decide to leave, she follows after me in a slow, yet friendly way.