So bringing a feral Pakistani cat into my home was not my brightest of ideas. In my defense at our first meeting Loca, as she came to be called, was on her best behavior. Quite a cute little thing with grey tiger strips and a cuddly disposition. Plus she was on deaths door with her ribs poking out her skin and her back ripped open by the male cats who always seem to assert their dominance by copulating with and then trying to kill the females in their ‘area’. I was a smitten sucker before Loca was even through the door. But over the last 4 months she has made my home life VERY difficult. It’s like having a toddler, who bites, with very sharp teeth. We couldn’t leave anything on low lying tables and then as she became more agile, on any tables. Our life became locked away in cupboards and bedrooms. She seemed to gain an immense pleasure from swiping things onto the floor and watching them shatter into a hundred pieces or more. Goodbye China magic mug, picture frame, 8 water glasses, my incense diffuser and a glass candle holder. Hello scarred ankles, scratch marks and a nervous twitch.
It’s now been over a month since Neil “accidentally” left the door slightly ajar and we last saw little Loca. It’s been at least two weeks since I stopped checking the bushes around our house for cat corpses…I do believe she made it past the large orange male who stalked her through the window and is now, for better or worse, in a different neighborhood. Besides from the feeling of guilt (how long is a semi-domesticated, deaf kitten really going to last?) my first reaction was overwhelmingly one of relief…before it was quickly swallowed by guilt again. I feel like an awful excuse for a pet owner saying this, but I haven’t missed her. Especially not since she left me the small circular shaped present of ringworm on my leg, just as a reminder of her presence here. In the end, this was not the world she was meant to live in and her imprisonment drove her (and us) mental. And this brings me to my final point and the title of this post – Mr. Tielesh, you may have been right in saying that you can’t make a pet out of a Ferrel cat. I, and my youthful optimism and nativity, have been proven wrong. Lesson learned and not to be repeated…at least not anytime too soon.