HANGIN' OUT

Here we are about six weeks later - give or take a week or two (I don't have my daytimer in front of me, and Fisher is doing okay. Like alot of the male species, he's not shy when it comes to food time, or treats time for that matter. He'll fearlessly venture out for both and now has become such a lover of the Temptations variety of goodies, that he'll actually tag team with our Silly to see who can convince Mom with pitiful little meows and those big sad eyes, to see which ones gets me to buckle first! *sneaky devils*

Without a doubt he's made alot of progress in terms of his comfort level in the house and he's also begun playing tag with Silly, all good signs. Steve and I can both pet him alot more now but he remains quite fearful of sudden movement and especially if there's any kind of raised voice. He retreats to his safety zone (which happens to be a little cat bed he's taken over on our bedroom floor), and it's there you'll find him if he's feeling at all unsure. He enjoys his toys but prefers to entertain himself with them, and attempts by us to play with him has him quite fearful; I guess it's the whole idea of something coming toward him that he's not ready for.

His meow, chipmunk cheeks, and candy cane tail are all so endearing. Behaviour wise toward our boys he is as good as can be, has perfect litterbox habits and is absolutely the best houseguest. He may never be a lap cat or a cuddler, but then again a year from now he could also make a complete liar out of me.

PRINCESS "P"

We received this lovely shot of Pica in her new home and I just had to share. It captures her beauty and her obvious happiness so well we thought.

Pica's new Mom reports that she's doing really well and seems to be quite content with being the princess of her domain. She has taken over a dining room chair as her throne, and is thoroughly enjoying having her little kingdom all to herself.

I can recall the notes from the shelter that accompanied her when she arrived into our home - it read: "Not a nice cat". Hmmmmph, what did they know!!

WORK TO BE DONE

It was three weeks ago yesterday since Fisher has arrived. We're making small baby steps of progress but he's still very easily frightened, nervous a great deal of the time, and very unsure.

The good news is that he's graduated from behind our livingroom couch to a cat bed that sits in our bedroom. At first he would only get into the cat bed if we weren't home (we'd catch him jumping out of it when we came in), or when we both went to bed. But he's gained abit more courage with us as now he spends a great deal of time in it and is happy to do so when one or both of us are in the bedroom either reading or watching t.v.

He also loves the multitude of cat toys strewn throughout the house and can often be heard playing up a storm at night once we've gone to bed. Then there's the front livingroom window (which he enjoys sitting in), AND the fact that he will now come when treats are being handed out! All encouraging signs except for............the fact that he's attacked me twice since arriving.

The first time was while he was sick and with a fever, but he bit me very hard, into the muscle in my hand and it's one of those not soon forgotten. The second time was about a week later when he was feeling physically all better and we were having a petting session but he got spooked by the motion of my hand I think and lunged at me (thankfully no teeth this time). Both incidences have left me very leery of him, moreso than I've been with a previous foster cat for a very long, long time. He gives all the signs of wanting more attention and affection but he startles easily and that in turn has me startled, and then, well then you just have two very nervous beings trying to figure out whose more scared of who. He's been good as gold with Steve but ironically he seems more scared of him than he is me, so Steve doesn't have as many chances to pet him.

Otherwise he's no trouble at all - hopefully we can find common ground where we can all relax and enjoy being together.

REFLECTIONS

I know that a new year is for many, a time to make resolutions in the hopes of achieving something they have struggled to obtain thus far. Honestly, I have never been one of those people; rather I've been someone whose always welcomed in the new year quietly and really without much thought. But life can lead you down corridors and roads you never thought possible.

For me, January 1st was always just one more day. Now, it is the day that I find myself with flowers in hand, visiting my younger sister's grave. It is the day when I remember that she was the first baby born in the city of Toronto in 1974, afew minutes just after midnight. And it is the day when I think upon the birthday's she is no longer here to celebrate since dying almost 3 years ago.

Grateful for blessings, saddened for losses, I pray that 2015 will be a year in which I can help more, learn much, forgive easier, and be gentler.......

If our latest foster Fisher could talk, I'm sure that the tales he would tell would include a sad tale, harrowing in nature. You can see it in his eyes when he you look at him, and you can feel it in his countenance when he see's it as being safer to hide behind the couch in our livingroom, than spend time with us. Our hope is that with time he will be able to realize that he's safe now and that noone here means him any harm.

We just have to keep trying. One step in front of another, we keep moving forward, never to quit.