Another stray has claimed me.
I first spotted her …him? …her …(well, I think it’s a her) once or twice last summer, but she never hung around. I know it was her because I remember noticing some missing fur on her hind legs. Now that I can see her up close and personal, she’s also missing fur on her belly. I wonder if it’s fleas, poor thing. I hope she’s not too uncomfortable. I’m sure it can’t feel good being all bare-bellied like that, especially in the winter. But I can’t do anything for her unless I want to be ripped to shreds…
WAIT A MINUTE…
See that? I’m already sympathizing with the enemy… Oh, she’s good… The whole “missing fur thing” by self-mutilation is definitely a new approach… Clever. Is there no line these scammers won’t cross to gain sympathy?
Anyway, back when I first saw her scoping my backyard, like a thief casing a 7-Eleven, I remember thinking, “Good. Keep it movin’ cuz I don’t need to be worryin’ about any more strays.” You see, at the time, I was already in the middle of a triple-feline-ambush-maneuver. That’s right, three of ‘em! Oh, but they were sure to space it out, only showing up one at a time, every two weeks. It’s a classic strategy of incrementalism that’s been used against us by the Illuminati for years. And it turns out there’s an FCD Division (Felis Catus Domesticus), of which I have a sneaking suspicion Nelly may very well be a member. The cat’s literally out of the bag, Nelly…I’m on to you.
Don’t let the furry cuteness overtake you like it did me. These tactical felines know exactly what they are doing. They’ve gone through extensive training on how to manipulate a human. They know what to look for and how to strategically play the game. Yes, I said game. To them it is a game. But I know the rules to this sick game which is exactly why I refuse to name this latest feline invader. Because I know what that means; once you name ‘em it’s all over, they win by default.
So this nameless, partially naked, black stray cat is pretty feral, but not beyond the point of help. She’s just really pissed off most of the time (as you can see in this little video), but I’ve been patiently working with her and she’s slowly coming around…
Or is she?
I can’t help but think I’m once again being played. Is this a grift? A sham? A well orchestrated performance to convince me that she just needs love? Am I once again being manipulated to eagerly accept the challenge of breaking this wild stallion of the feline species when in reality, she’s really breaking me?
Probably.
I have a small section of my house set up as a “Stray Haven.” It’s a warm and cozy space with makeshift bunk beds and an opening to the outside which allows stray cats to come and go as they please… OK, I can hear you asking the question, “Why do I even complain if I voluntarily have an open door policy?” But here’s my question back to you, "Is it voluntary?” Has this space been created of my own volition? Or am I a victim of FCDID mind control? Am I being MK-Ultrad by the Felis Catus Domesticus Illuminatus Division? Prove to me I’m not and I’ll shut up forever. Otherwise, maybe you should pay attention; they’re always looking for new suckers.
With this newest stray, boundaries were quickly established and I knew to leave the food on the floor and go, for she wouldn’t come to the food until I had closed that glass faced door. Then from the other side I could watch her eat, but she would usually yell at me, as you can see in the video I already mentioned.
Imagine my surprise when, quite recently, while walking into the room as usual, she started talking to me and immediately jumped down from the top bunk and headed straight for me. I was sure she was coming to attack! But instead, she cleverly rubbed up against my legs like a normal cat! Gripped with fear, I stood very still as she glided her body back and forth along my pant-leg, all the while chirping out sweet little kitty sounds that I’ve never heard her make before. I was terrified… honored… delighted, all at the same time. I was like putty in her paws.
This new behavior caught me off guard. I was fully expecting her to turn any second, and rightly so! Quicker than Sybil changes personalities, this cat was lashing out at me once again as though I were the offender! (And no, I’m not gonna name her Sybil!) It was the ol,’ “make the human think they’ve made progress” tactic. Oh, and it worked. I definitely felt like I had broken the first barrier and was well on my way to earning petting status.
I have not yet earned petting status. I still pet her with an extended metal back scratching device. She acts like she hates it with groans of disapproval while at the same time closing her eyes in pure delight. Sometimes she gets up to flop back down onto her side, wanting face scratchies. I know she likes it. I may be a sucker, but I’m not stupid.