After all the cats mentioned in part 1 had gone off to new homes or foster home we were without any rescue cats for a while.
When I say “a while” … it was the while it took to drive from Figgs’ foster home to the house where Tyga & Belle were living but unable to stay. And then the while it took to get them home and settled into their new room before Mikey arrived.
They’re very different cats with different histories. One thing they have (had!) in common however was their unneutered status. Mikey gently stank his room out with adolescent boy hormones, whilst the girls in their bedroom got all excited and sang him sweet love songs throughout the night. I mention it because our bedroom is the one in between both of theirs … and most of us ended up downstairs sleeping on the sofa in an effort to escape it.
Tyga & Belle had lived in a home since being small kittens but both were very timid on arrival.
It was a few days until they would dare to come out of hiding when I went into their room, and longer until they’d actually eat whilst I was there. Tyga then came into season and shamelessly pole danced around the chair legs whilst I watched. She gained confidence that hasn’t been lost since her hormones have settled. Belle remains more wary but can be enticed out to play and to take treats from me.
Mikey on the other had had been living rough and then camping in someone’s garden for a few months. He’d spent some time on waiting lists at other rescues, but when kids started to kick him around the lovely people who were caring for him pulled out all the stops and tried rescues further away from them …. and fortunately we had space.
He was clearly also anxious. Like a frightened dog he tucked his tail between his legs. When he arrived he cowered close to the lovely people who had brought him to us, wondering what was going to happen next. Very quickly though he decided it was ok here and was full of love and snuggles. So much so that it was hard to get any decent photos of him – as he refused to stand far enough away to point the camera at him.
Even attempts at selfies were blurred as he’d head butt the camera. Bless him. I was heartbroken to find that when I raised my voice just a little “for goodness sake Michael … we need a decent photo for your adoption ad” …. he slunk away, tail between legs, and crouched under his cat tree.
It produced a good enough photo to get him a lovely new home that he’ll go to this weekend … but it hurt both of us. Thankfully chicken and dreamies helped to restore him. When his new family came to meet him he tucked his tail under again and stood close to me ……… but only for a while. Then he decided they were the best thing .. and delighted in sitting on my lap being fussed by a family of four (soon to become five). Hopefully he’ll never need to worry like that again.
8 Lives: Sheffield 8 Cat Rescue 