My current feline family, Katie and Bubba, were the kittens of a feral (i.e. stray/wild) queen that I was feeding during her pregnancy when we lived in urban South Minneapolis. She had the kittens under the neighbor’s porch and brought them to the food dish on our front porch when they were about six weeks old.
“Mama Cat” was feral and the kittens were feral. They were terrified of us and would run for cover whenever they caught sight of a human being.
Mama Cat first brought them to the food dish on the front porch around Mother’s Day weekend in May in 1994. I spent from that time on — the rest of the spring and all summer — trying to befriend these kittens. Food was the bribe to tolerate my presence. I went through the whole process with them: first putting food on the front porch and leaving them alone with it, then putting food on the front porch and standing behind the closed screen door where they could see me while they ate, then standing out on the porch with them but moving away while they ate, to finally being able to sit down beside them (within four or five feet) while they ate. I could never get too close, though, or touch them in any way without them becoming frightened and running away.
Finally, around the end of August 1994, with cooler fall weather approaching, I moved the food dish from the front porch into the front hallway of the house and left the front door open. They came in to eat and then visited inside the house for awhile. I let them back out for the night. We repeated that for a handful of evenings. One evening, I declared them “my kittens” and they were in for good.
It was only after they had been residents inside the house for a week or so that they began to let me touch and pet them. They were five months old by this time. All the authorities on cat behavior say that if a kitten isn’t socialized to human contact by the time they’re six to eight weeks old, there is a slim chance of them ever being socialized to human contact.
Katie and Bubba have done exceptionally well. Remarkably well. Bubba
loves both Dale and me and is the most affectionate, loving cat we’ve ever had the pleasure to know. He’s my “love sponge.” He’s a wonderful boy! However, he is scared of strangers and will run and sit in the basement if anyone else comes into the house.
Katie was a tougher case all the way around. It probably took me a year or more to be able to approach her and pet her without her startling. She was very nervous and skittish about the contact. She finally bonded with me — and me alone — and once that bonding happened, she claimed me as her personal companion. She
and I are as close as a human and cat can be now. She sleeps with me, she craves my attention, she gives me the biggest head-butts a cat can bestow. She purrs like crazy when she’s next to me. (She didn’t purr for the first year or so.) Just this past year, she has started to sit on my lap, which she’s never done before. I still can’t pick her up. She doesn’t like her feet out from under her and will struggle mightily to get down if I do pick her up for some reason.
Katie doesn’t care much for Dale. She tolerates him living in the house, but just as often as not, will leave the room if he comes in or crawl under the bed. He has only been able to pet her if we’re in bed together and she is settling in for the night next to me. Then she’ll tolerate a pet or two from him. All is well with her world if she is next to her mom in bed!
Note: Katie died on February 19, 2011, finally succumbing to chronic kidney disease that she had lived with for several years. Mia joined our family a month later, now an active, affectionate 1-year-old. Bubba is hanging in there and just received the I-131 treatment for hyperthyroidism. Our feline family has undergone many changes this past year, very sad ones but happy ones, too.





Oh, they are gorgeous. Look at those coats.
Bonnie,
How sweet! I read your blog to my husband and asked if this scenario sounded familiar…He said Yes. Its just like your damn cat! I have Lizabel, her mother was feral, but had bonded with my brothers roommate. I got one of the kittens nine yrs ago. My Lizzy will only come to me, has to be next to me in bed and will circle the computer chair and head butt me until I sit back enough for her to jump into my lap. Life is good.
Life is good, indeed, Shannon, especially when there are some special felines in your life!
The more I read your writings and talk with you on fb, they more convinced I am that we are indeed kindred spirits. I’ve always had cats in my life but as an adult I’ve had two pairs of siblings. I am a firm believer that whenever possible, animals should come in pairs. I believe they need the comfort and identification – not to mind the playmate – of another of their own kind. I also think it can get pretty lonely (even for a cat) if they are always alone when their people are out of the house. My first pair were siblings: a grey tabby named Nicodemus, and his sister, a calico named Mrs. Brisbee. We named them after characters in a favorite animated film “The Secret of N.I.H.M.” They lived to be 18 & 19, respectively. Brisbee was quite literally attached to my right arm! She was the love of my life and my heart broke irrevocably when she died in my arms. Our current sibling pair are a male orange tabby named Hey, Boo and his calico (can’t live without a calico!) sister, Miss Jean Louise a.k.a.”Scout” named from one of my Top Ten movies: “To Kill A Mockingbird”. You must indeed be a Cat Whisperer for I have never heard of ferals that old attaching to humans! I too, am a sort of Cat Whisperer. I am the person who comes to your home and while listening to you tell me why your cats will never come near me, watch your eyes open in disbelief when, seemingly unbidden, they jump up next to me, crawl between my back and my coat, and lie down for a nap!