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I know we all have those stories about our beloved kitties, where they came from, and how you fell in love with them. Some are thrilling, some are heart felt, and others bring you to tears. I'd really like to hear everyone's Kitty"Tails". :catmilk

I'll start...

Almost a year ago I started volunteering with The Rescue House. I lived on my own for 2 years, and swore I'd never have a kitty. Reasons behind this was I knew it's take a lot of work, I live in an apartment with a room mate, and I was still settling into my new life living on my own after moving from Orlando, FL to San Diego. I'm only 20.

This 10 year old tuxedo named Boots came to our center after an adoption fair around November. This cat was SO aggressive that we had to use monster sized gloves to get her from her enclosure to her exercise pen every day. She'd hiss, growl, swat (hella hard!), and attack you. Days went by. People commented about how mean she was. A little boy came into the Petco one day and asked me if the "mean kitty" was still here or did we get a nice one to replace her. I was really upset at that... A few people even called her "unadoptable" and said we should be "humane" and put her to sleep. She's "too old to be adopted out", and the negative remarks went on for weeks upon weeks, turning into months. Meanwhile this cat scratched and attacked every volunteer at the center during transporting so bad that we had to set her up to where she could WALK to her exercise pen daily so we could clean her cage.

One day she decided she didn't want out. It was getting late. Store was closing. I had to leave... They close at 9pm and it was 8:40. I've already been sitting there for an hour waiting for her to cooperate (by then the kitties have been put back for over an hour). I tried treats. Praise. I tried going in after her. Food. Nothing worked. I sat on the floor between her xpen and her enclosure, I was so frustrated. All I wanted to do was put her back and go home. The employees were pressuring me to be more aggressive to get her out, but this cat is claustrophobic and doesn't like to be cornered. If she's cornered all **** breaks loose. So I cried. I just broke down and cried. I asked her why she was doing this. Why wouldn't she do this. The adoption fair was tomorrow, why don't you want to go and get adopted? I told her that her new home is waiting for her. Then I felt this brush up against my back and a tail curl around my neck. Boots came over to comfort me. I sat there, loved on her, and she went back meowing at me, easier than she's ever gone back. When you go to close her cage door normally she hisses and swatch as the door closes, but she laid in her bed, watched me, and just did nothing. I thanked her, of course.

The next day I had to drop her off at the adoption fair. I just couldn't leave her cage there... I actually cried while I was walking away from her. It didn't help that the other volunteers were telling me she's watching me trying to peak around the other cages and meowing at me. Soooo I went back, stuck my fingers in her cage, she licked them. I went into her cage (which you could NEVER do, she'd attack you. I just felt like I needed to prove to myself that this cat is just, I don't know, that I can leave her.). She let me love on her, and when it was too much she laid down in the corner. I got up and left her cage.

I ended up working the entire weekend adoption fair, glued to her enclosure. Every time someone called her mean I'd defend her. Say she's just misunderstood. She's really a sweet cat. She's really loveable just doesn't like being in a cage. I was really hard core on top of people making them feel like total garbage for saying one bad little thing about dear sweet Bootsie.

I left Sunday for lunch. Came back to this...


Laying in her enclosure at the fair. One of the coordinators asked me if I wanted to take her home. And I did. I didn't realize how much I loved her. Over time with people talking bad things I felt offended in her place, like they were talking bad about me not the cat. The other volunteers are still thrilled I have her. They help with food costs, litter, bought me supplies (since I wasn't planning on getting a cat any time soon) and help with vet bills. To this day Boots is still aggressive towards others, but comes to me and purrs. We have a connection I can't explain. When she's hurt, I'm hurt, when I cry, she's there next to me bringing me her wawa (her favorite wand). She sleeps with me every night. Sits next to me when I go to the bathroom or sits on the rug when I shower. She misses me when I'm gone, and greats me when I return. She completely ignores everyone else. Looking back I still can't believe I share my life with that devil cat. She chose me. She's my cat and I'm her person. My Little Boots.



Whewww that was long. I'd love to "hear" (read) some stories on how your kitties came about! :smile:
 

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That's such a sweet story! It was sad at first, and it is sad how people just don't understand and aren't willing to take the time to get to know a cat before writing them off like that, but you adopted her in the end! That's a great picture of her, she's so relaxed there. Thank you for sharing.

I suppose I could type the story out about Blacky, but it's already been done here:

http://www.catforum.com/forum/56-feral-cats/137714-taming-cat-success-story.html

I can't say when I "fell in love" with her, it took time on both our parts. As I was taming her, somewhere along the lines I found myself always worrying about her being outside, and when I started sitting outside with her every night is likely when it happened. We really clicked... eventually.

For Blaze, I wanted an orange kitten. I suppose my 9 year old self was obsessed with orange kittens, I don't know why. There weren't any kittens anywhere at the time but then one day we got a call from a TNR lady, she had an orange 6 month old feral kitten she'd caught by some dumpsters. She brought him over to our house. He currled up the couch and wouldn't move, he was scared to death, and hissed a few times if I recall. The lady told us he should come around eventually, so we gave her 50 dollars for him. It took him two weeks to move off the couch an explore the house, and at even a few years old we were still seeing new personality traits coming out in him as he learned to trust and relax around the house. One thing I remember well, even though I was quite young, is the first time he ate anything when I was around. I was worried he wasn't eating enough because he was so stressed out, but I sat him between my crossed legs and then sat some food in front of him, and he started eating. That was a pretty huge moment to me. Today (15 years later) he's a very loving and talkative guy. He does have his share of issues but we put up with them since we (the select few that he trusts) love him.
 
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