Adopting an emotionally damaged kitty, my little Roo.

In the fall of 2011, innocently dropping a donation off to the SPCA after a long summer of fostering sick kitties I was in all honesty not looking to foster any more. I was tired. I should've known better than to show my face there having been fostering all summer...they had these two little girls that were terrified in the sick room...they were young, maybe 5 months old but out of the "kitten stage". Could I take them? Give them a chance to relax. They were these two little black and white creatures, cowering in the back of their cage, sniffly and absolutely positively terrified. All my instincts said, no, you're done fostering. So, of course, they came home with me.I named them Grace and Ruby.

It quickly became apparent that I had my work cut out for me with these two. Tucked away in their safe little room just the two of them, I left the carrier put out food and water, fresh litter and toys to make them at home as I'd done with the seven others I'd fostered in the course of the summer and left the room so they could settle in. Five hours later, still in their carrier huddled in the back. Right where I'd left them. Next morning, still in the carrier. Day later, we had a breakthrough, albeit a very small one, they were now huddled in the corner under the desk.

The eyes say it all. This was day 3.

Grace was coming around quicker, clearly the more curious of the two and would start to come out. Still scared of me. Ruby was having none of it. Plus they were both sick so leaky eyes and noses, sneezes abounded. I remember thinking - crap I'm going to end up adopting this cat cause who's going to want her? She's a dud!

And so the weeks went with a lot of time spent on the floor in the spare room. In the course I this I came to find out that Grace and Ruby were, in fact, boys. And so they became Gus and Roo. I think it was three weeks before Roo would come near me, and the first time he nuzzled up to me I honestly cried a bit. When Gus found an adoptive home to go to, that left me with just Roo who I couldn't leave in the room all by himself while I waited to find him a home (he'd been on Kijiji for weeks at this point). So I thought, well, I'll let him roam the house with the rest of them. I think even then I knew he wasn't going anywhere. When he and Dax became best buddies, I knew he would never leave.

The boys, Dax and Roo.

When I opened the door to the room that had been his home for 4 weeks, it was another 4 days before he even ventured about, a week more and he had only expanded his territory to the next room, and another week before he'd even come downstairs. He had however developed a love for sleeping with me, and would very gratefully nuzzle up to me when it was time to sleep. When I had to bring him to the vet for a checkup, that set us back 4 days where he wouldn't come downstairs. Then a couple weeks later when I had to bring him to be neutered, well - that set us way far back. Took three weeks before he'd trust me to come near him, a solid week before he even came downstairs again. Visitors very rarely saw him unless they were upstairs on my bed (which really, was not many visitors). By this time of course, he was officially mine. Having fallen in love with this poor, damaged, skiddish kitty who had in the five months before he'd come to me been traumatized in his short little life.

It is almost a year that I've had Roo now, and with a lot of patience and cautiousness this once black and white little ball of fear has become quite the character. It took him at least 7 months before I heard him make a noise - I'd assumed he couldn't meow. It's taken until just a couple weeks ago for me to be able to bend down and pat him when I'm standing up. He's become an energetic, playful, cuddly little furball who loves the other cats (Stella however has been the slowest to warm up to his love).

It goes to show that even the most damaged kitties with such little trust for the world around them can become the most wonderful pets. It takes a lot of time and patience and frankly, even if he was still a kitty huddled under the desk a year later - I'd be okay with that because I would at least know he had a safe home and lots of love whether or not he returned it.

Sometimes adopting the kitty who seems perfect from the outset, means you'll miss out on an even better kitty that just needs to figure out what safety and love mean first.

Roo, as I write this blog post.