Okay, I feel a lot better this morning. One of yesterday’s excitements was we’re fostering a cat. A few things about fosters around here:
- They’re sometimes feral but sometimes not.
- Feral cats don’t meow, really. They’re not socialized to.
- It can take cats days to weeks to come out of the corner of a cage and say hello.
Wherever our little guy came from, he is CLEARLY not a feral cat. I slept the night in the room with him, and this morning he was at the front of a cage (you’re supposed to keep them in a large dog cage to start until they have a small piece of solid territory, apparently) hungrily accepting pats. Now he’s yelling his fool head off in the next room, that “I’m lonely and bored and sad” cat shout.
Which, I mean, GREAT — he’s clearly highly socialized and stuff — but, as messed up as this sounds, I was kind of hoping for my “coax a feral cat into society” experience. Right now it feels like I’m keeping a kitten in prison.
Radio show and podcast stuff today, then some recovery napping — I’m still feeling a bit logey — and then Weekend Stuff. It’s raining cats & dogs which will curtail outdoor fun, but that’s fine.