The Tale of Beastie

Our cats, Mr. Gold and Beastie, are always having such interesting arguments outside my bedroom window. Mr. Gold's favorite past time is to hang from my screen and argue with Beastie about why it's important for him to come in. I imagine what their conversation(s) consist of, is who belongs and who doesn't.

(Mr. Gold) “I belong here!”

(Beastie) “No you don't!”

(Mr. Gold) “This is my home, you and the rest are intruders!”

(Beastie) “Who are you calling an intruder...! I don't even know what that means, but I know it's you...! You don't belong here and besides I'm pretty sure you're the monster that killed my mommy...!”

My Beastie lost his mother and big brother to what we think is a wild cat that has hunted down our cats since I can remember. We've lost many of our little friends to this monster.

When both feral Beastie and his brother started coming around, I had the good fortune to come close to taming his big brother. I thought that I would be able to tame him, because he wasn't as feral as Beastie. The closer I got to being able to bring him in, the more positive I became over the idea that I would be able to save at least one of them. Yet, as misfortune would have it, I wasn't able to do this and eventually something, most likely the same wild cat that has hunted so many of our cats, got Beastie's brother.

After Beastie's brother got gotten, I tried hard to tame Beastie. He would run away anytime I tried to skim my hand across his back. Hissing the entire time.

Yet, this didn't discourage me.

As time went on, and, I listened to him each night crying outside my window, I came to the realization that I needed and might be able to tame him. Our older male cat was far from happy about this realization, and kept giving me “don't you dare” looks.

Yet, I decided, that as much as I love my older male cat, that I needed to ignore his irritated glares.

Not in good conscience could I just ignore the sweet little baby out there and pray for the best.

He needed both my mom and I.

So, I kept working with Beastie and finally the day came when I could stop skimming my hand either against his back or...thin air.

I finally was able to pet him!!!

Hallelujah!!! Right!!!

He had been so obstinate over me petting him. No matter how hard I tried to explain to him, that he would enjoy being petted and a house cat; he just wouldn't have anything to do with the idea. He was under the distinct impression that the reason I fed him was because I was fattening him up to eat him.

Gross right!!!

And he just was unwilling to understand, that I really am not into eating cats. (Frankly I think that's disgusting.) Yet, no matter how hard I explained it to him, he was just too stubborn. His stubbornness consisted of, him practically jump up in the air in his haste to get away from me.

There were times that I had thought, I'll never be able to tame him and something will surely get him. But through my shear persistence and by the the good grace of God, I was finally able to do that one pet. And then he gradually let me work him up to more petting. Eventually there came a time when I could pick him up and carry him into the house.

While I didn't get much sleep that first night of him being inside, because he found a way to get behind our dryer and mess up the dryer hose. And then the additional nights of shutting him up in my bedroom with me, and, trying to teach him how to use a kitty box were met with him chasing my feet and trying to knock my stuff on the floor.

Yet, again, by my shear persistence and the good grace of God, we were finally able to make Beastie apart of our family.

Also, I'm happy to say that Beastie no longer thinks that I am going to eat him. He's a happy house kitty, that thinks he's been with us his entire life.

The End...