The Cat Whisperer Speaks ...
My vet calls me "The Cat Whisperer", but I think it's just because he's jealous *muahahaha*
It's been a while since CatFive got a post of her own here ... she's coming along great. The "Find her a home" project is still a failure, no response to the signs and ads.
Today she came into the kitchen while I was washing dishes, and meowed just loud enough to be heard over the swishing of water and clanking of glassware. I turned around and spoke to her, and she came over and BONKED me! An honest-to-goodness head-butt/shoulder-rubbing twine-around-the-human's-leg! From FIVERGIRL?
My day is complete. *bleep* the dishes, laundry, and resume-sending. There's cat-petting to get done.
She loves to be brushed and will trot over to where I'm sitting if I hold out the slicker brush and call to her (and like most cats, she likes it *rough* SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE that pesky winter undercoat off). She's not a real lapcat, not yet, although when she's being brushed on the couch she'll sometimes crawl into the lap during her "ok brush me HERE! now THERE! no, HERE!" contortions.
Usually she comes up next to me, or near me, and lies down. Then I get this over-the-shoulder look that means "OK, I'm here, that's your cue to pet me". That's a huge improvement over just a few months ago.
Her body language over the months has become more and more relaxed around me. There's less tensing and nervousness, and when there is, the build-up is slower, with enough time for me to change the situation so she doesn't feel threatened. Which is good because it teaches her patience and to not panic. It's a nice little feedback loop there, but it requires a lot of work on my part to "read" her and stay ahead of the changes.
The key has been letting her feel she's in control of the interaction. I don't "trap" her or make her feel boxed in, I make sure she's always got a clear avenue of escape. If she shows signs of nervousness, I'll withdraw a bit -- take one hand off her body so she doesn't feel "held". The hardest part is cutting off the petting *before* she gets nervous and wants to move, because she's sooo soft and silky now, it's a joy to pet her. Petting sessions end while she still wants it, before she goes over her limits. This helps keep it all positive and makes her want to come over again for more.
She really really REALLY wants petting and attention and brushing. That's what I'm exploiting to keep building trust and getting her comfortable around me. I make every interaction a positive one, even if it's just a scratch between the shoulderblades as I walk by on an errand.
I can walk by as she lies on the top of the bannister, and she gives me a chirping-meow and elevator-butt solicitation for a scratching.
She's learned she can lie on the floor as we walk by, instead of run away in terror, because us walking by is NOT a precursor to us leaning over to try and grab and hurt her.
She's learned that she can lie still and not tense up when I pet her with both hands, because having both hands on her doesn't mean she's getting grabbed.
She's learned from watching Entropy, too. A 30-sided die makes a wonderful toy, and the scary clattering noise it makes when WHACKED across the floor isn't really all that scary after all.
With her bright white-white tuxedo markings on glossy rich thick shiny black-black coat, happy-dancing feet, big eyes and playing with a toy mouse in the middle of the floor ... there's no outward sign of the worm-riddled flea-and-tick-infested, covered in spiderwebs, clay, dirt, dried blood and god-knows-what-else, and above all TERRIFIED little bag of bones & bruises that I trapped o so many months ago.
I hear the skittering of paws on the wood floor, and little kitty-chirps and the thump of a cloth toy mouse hitting the cabinets and bouncing off only to be grabbed and flung again ... and life is good. For me, and for CatFive FiverGirl.
This has been far more work than any hawk, but then again, I've never tried to turn a hag redtail into a laphawk (nor do I intend to).
It's been a while since CatFive got a post of her own here ... she's coming along great. The "Find her a home" project is still a failure, no response to the signs and ads.
Today she came into the kitchen while I was washing dishes, and meowed just loud enough to be heard over the swishing of water and clanking of glassware. I turned around and spoke to her, and she came over and BONKED me! An honest-to-goodness head-butt/shoulder-rubbing twine-around-the-human's-leg! From FIVERGIRL?
My day is complete. *bleep* the dishes, laundry, and resume-sending. There's cat-petting to get done.
She loves to be brushed and will trot over to where I'm sitting if I hold out the slicker brush and call to her (and like most cats, she likes it *rough* SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE that pesky winter undercoat off). She's not a real lapcat, not yet, although when she's being brushed on the couch she'll sometimes crawl into the lap during her "ok brush me HERE! now THERE! no, HERE!" contortions.
Usually she comes up next to me, or near me, and lies down. Then I get this over-the-shoulder look that means "OK, I'm here, that's your cue to pet me". That's a huge improvement over just a few months ago.
Her body language over the months has become more and more relaxed around me. There's less tensing and nervousness, and when there is, the build-up is slower, with enough time for me to change the situation so she doesn't feel threatened. Which is good because it teaches her patience and to not panic. It's a nice little feedback loop there, but it requires a lot of work on my part to "read" her and stay ahead of the changes.
The key has been letting her feel she's in control of the interaction. I don't "trap" her or make her feel boxed in, I make sure she's always got a clear avenue of escape. If she shows signs of nervousness, I'll withdraw a bit -- take one hand off her body so she doesn't feel "held". The hardest part is cutting off the petting *before* she gets nervous and wants to move, because she's sooo soft and silky now, it's a joy to pet her. Petting sessions end while she still wants it, before she goes over her limits. This helps keep it all positive and makes her want to come over again for more.
She really really REALLY wants petting and attention and brushing. That's what I'm exploiting to keep building trust and getting her comfortable around me. I make every interaction a positive one, even if it's just a scratch between the shoulderblades as I walk by on an errand.
I can walk by as she lies on the top of the bannister, and she gives me a chirping-meow and elevator-butt solicitation for a scratching.
She's learned she can lie on the floor as we walk by, instead of run away in terror, because us walking by is NOT a precursor to us leaning over to try and grab and hurt her.
She's learned that she can lie still and not tense up when I pet her with both hands, because having both hands on her doesn't mean she's getting grabbed.
She's learned from watching Entropy, too. A 30-sided die makes a wonderful toy, and the scary clattering noise it makes when WHACKED across the floor isn't really all that scary after all.
With her bright white-white tuxedo markings on glossy rich thick shiny black-black coat, happy-dancing feet, big eyes and playing with a toy mouse in the middle of the floor ... there's no outward sign of the worm-riddled flea-and-tick-infested, covered in spiderwebs, clay, dirt, dried blood and god-knows-what-else, and above all TERRIFIED little bag of bones & bruises that I trapped o so many months ago.
I hear the skittering of paws on the wood floor, and little kitty-chirps and the thump of a cloth toy mouse hitting the cabinets and bouncing off only to be grabbed and flung again ... and life is good. For me, and for CatFive FiverGirl.
This has been far more work than any hawk, but then again, I've never tried to turn a hag redtail into a laphawk (nor do I intend to).