I know this is pretty random but I just have to post about what I think may be one of the best things I’ve ever done.
I’m a cat person. I have been since my dad got a pair of kittens for me and my sister when I was 7 years old. One of those cats is still alive, other cats have come into our lives as well.
Since I left home for college in 2010, I’ve missed having a cat. I always wanted one but couldn’t have one in the dorm, then even when I was out of the dorm I just didn’t want to incur the cost, plus my boyfriend is a dog person… for a multitude of reasons I never got a cat even though I would lament out loud almost every day “I wish I had a cat”.
For my birthday in 2013, among other items, my boyfriend got me a stuffed animal cat since we couldn’t get a real one. You know, a placeholder. I decided to call that stuffed animal “Biscuit” since that’s a pretty cute word (also my mom’s cat is named Pumpernickel which I think is awesome so I was inspired by bread products).
Then in June of this year, I noticed there was a kitten living under our porch.
So… I started to feed her.
And then I decided to keep her. I couldn’t bear seeing her live on our property, not when I had wanted a cat so badly for so many years. So, knowing full well that I was about to bring a wild animal into my home, I trapped her. I named her Biscuit after the stuffed animal that I’d gotten for my birthday.
She was a terribly mangy thing. So thin, skin and bones. I have no idea how old she is. I took her to the vet immediately to get her spayed. Turns out she was in her second trimester of pregnancy and only weighed four pounds. I do not think she would have survived giving birth. Too small, too young, too malnourished.
Then came the domesticating.
It was scary to have a wild animal in the house! Was I ready for this? Did I have what it takes to domesticate a feral cat? I was very stressed about it. Biscuit stayed in the kennel for about two days before she would yowl nonstop all night and I had no choice but to let her out so that I could get some sleep. Then she took to hiding under the couch. Biscuit did not come out from under the couch for about three weeks except for when I would force her out to socialize with me about once a day. Some people said she needed to socialize and others advised me to leave her alone. I was constantly afraid I was making the wrong choices.
Eventually, Biscuit started coming out little by little. At first it was just for a couple of minutes. Then, only when we were sitting completely still and she would run whenever we moved. Then, she started playing with toys. Then, sleeping with me at night. Now, less than two months after I took the following photo of a mangy kitten…
…here she is today.
I saved this little cat’s life, and I think she is very grateful 🙂