very poor pictures of the Very Cute New Boy

Before i show these to you
i want to explain:
the house is very dark given that we keep all the
curtains drawn as a sheild, these days, against the
brutal sun.
This means that i had to adjust the camera to the 1600 iso and
even then it was a slow shutter speed and
this little rascal is hardly still for more than a brief moment.
(i've read that camera flash can harm pet's eyes so i do not
turn it on to photo the cats)
So, with that pre-apology
i share these first snapshots of Junior
the new furball to join our family.

He is quite small
and has big, beautiful eyes



Yes, at first glance he looks like he could be  Greenwood Buddy's twin.
In fact, we do call him Buddy Junior.

Even though he sports a perfectly round, adorable spot on his back
the name "Spot" just doesn't fit.



And he has the most expressive, curvacious tail



Buddy Junior has been with us for almost 5 weeks.
He is hilarious. Adorable. Affectionate.
He has taught me a great deal in such a short amount of time
about the courage it takes to face the unknown.
And patience.
And honoring individual needs.

i have to keep reminding myself that absolutely everything is
completely new to him.

He spent the last 18 months of his life (he's only 2) in a crate at the shelter run by very good, caring people. When we adopted him, he went straight to the vet
for "his operation" then came home to a world totally foreign to him.
He had no idea what a house is--how could he?
He was confused and petrified.

It was the first time i'd adopted an older cat/not a kitten and
i had no idea what to expect, but i assumed he would warm up to us
quickly.
everyone at the shelter loved him and
we are animal people.
i learned the hard way that i needed to let him decide when he was ready
to adopt us.
And i've a deeply scared pinky finger to show just how hard he can resist
when he's totally panicked.

i made the mistake of trying to pick him up 2 days after he was here
and surprised to discover that he does not have much loose skin
at the back of his neck where his mom carried him.
When my hand lost hold of that spot and i grabbed him with both hands
he totally freaked. And bit the scary hands holding him. He bit hard.
Right through the leather gloves i was wearing. And nearly through and through
the end of my finger.

It was frightening. And i wondered, "was this a mistake?"
We called the shelter, the young man who had loved him most
came and got him back into the crate for us. And gave us a longer tutorial
as to the reality of bringing an older young cat into a brand new world.
Because we have adopted so many animals over the years
the assumption had been that we had a broader experience.
4 cats have come to Greenwood on their own.
And i could always handle Puma, the one who bit every other hand who touched him.
Ah, well. Lessons learned on both sides.
Yes, they would have taken him back if we thought it best.
We worried most about old Spike's safety--he is no alpha cat.
John, from the shelter, assured us that New Boy is not either.
Obviously, we wanted to try again.

Later, i sat on the floor next to New Boy's crate.
He was crouched in the corner
as far away as he could get
staring straight into my eyes.
All i could see was his terror.

i swallowed my desire for him to leap over his fears to understand
and know us
and began quietly talking to him. Murmuring, really.
i apologized and promised him i would not push him too hard again.
And i saw it happen.
i saw the terror leave his eyes.
He relaxed, just a bit. Blinked.
And then it was there, in those big, beautiful eyes.
He wanted it to be OK between us, too.

As advised, we put the crate in the Lshape (family room)
where he would be with us mornings and evenings when we
sat to have tea, watch television, eat our meals.
It was two weeks before he stopped growling when we opened
the crate to feed him and clean his box.
Then, out of the blue, one morning
he suddenly came up to my hand when
i reached into to take the empty bowl
and he nudged my fingers, wanting me to scratch his chin.
So i did.
It was another week before he ventured out of the crate door to sit
and let us give him long rubs and chin scratches before dashing back in.
From that point on, it has been one quick milestone after another.
On his terms.

For two more weeks he lived in the Lshape with
the crate door open
slowly, he began exploring the large room.

A few days ago
out of the blue
he jumped up onto the sofa to be close.
And we noticed that he no longer went into the crate
even to just sniff and look around.

He still does not want to be held
but will let me put both hands on him, so i lift him a few inches off the floor
then quickly put him back down and he does not run off. Or try to bite.
When he is lying near, he will let me softly massage his paws.
In fact, when playing and over stimulated he will often put his mouth on
fingers...but...he never bites hard.

He has finally left this half of the downstairs
and last evening, he ate his supper in the kitchen where the "big boy's" bowl is.

Speaking of the big boy. He wants to meet Spike in the worst way.
But for the last few years, and now that his brother has passed
Spike has chosen to be an upstairs cat.
He comes downstairs at 8 o'clock every night for his supper and
who-knows-when to use the litter box.
It took Junior all of two days
once he left his crate
to figure out Spike's schedule.
Every night, starting at 7:30,  Junior waits, watching the stairs he is still afraid of.
So far, when Spike does appear, it's long staring matches followed
by hissing and fluffed tails
Junior gets so excited that he
races back into the Lshape and tears back and
forth for a bit. Often ending up back at the doorway
looking up at the top of the stairs.

Two nights ago, after Spike strutted back upstairs
tail held high
i sat on the bottom two steps and waited for Buddy Jr to finish
his dash about and return.
He came to me on the steps and i told him,
"It's OK. You can come upstairs. Spike is OK and it's OK to go meet him."
But he's still not sure.
After all, he has just braved the dining room and kitchen these past 2 days.
And met a strange, scary new chair that squeaks (!) when humans sit in it.

He will sometimes curl up next to my leg, purr--and close his eyes--for almost 2 full minutes.

i am moved beyond measure
and humbled
as i watch him bravely explore new corners of this totally strange, new world
and try new things
get nervous, but perservere
forgive and forget
and come out, each morning, from under a little rug he's chosen as his new bed
to greet us, happily,
eager for a good head rub.

The only thing that has me nervous now:
the fact that i must get the vaccum out one of these very soon days
to do the carpets in the hallway and dining room.
Sweeping and picking up won't cut it anymore.
Thank heavens there's a door on the Lshape (which has no carpet
and we can continue to just sweep
with a broom until he feels safe in another room)

Oy. Growing pains...

Comments

[marly youmans]

Get a little carpet sweeper? They don't make noise, or not much...

[Lynette]

awww!!! He's adorable. No wonder you had to bring him home. It's a bit magically reading this peek of his journey into a secure home. I can just see him tearing around the L room. :D

[zephyr]

i have a little carpet sweeper Marly, and it does OK...and may continue to rely on it for a bit longer. i am eager, however, to do a "deeper cleaning" before too long.

You would LOVE this little dude, Lynette. i am aching to pick him up. One day he will want it, i think. Last night he slept for about 15 min on the sofa with his head on Jo's knee!! He leans against legs and walks back and forth over our laps and chins our noses (marking us?!?)...but can't bring himself to curl up yet.