The Story of a House Cat... - Part 1

This is my small attempt to break out of the relatively comfortable confines of the Italian community and write something about an international community, and what better way to start than by talking about one of my cats, specifically the one you see in the attached image?!?!

Her name is Lela, and she arrived in our home somewhat by chance, when my partner's son broke up with his ex-girlfriend and came back to live with us. This little cat had become a problem, as neither of us wanted to take her in—or rather, he was even willing to take her in, but for the moment she was returning to our family. She had never been in the house before, a cat...

After some initial hesitation, the cat arrived at our house. It was a bit of a drama, because I knew her character quite well, not exactly sociable. The first few days I was basically dealing with a sort of invisible cat. Every now and then, if you pricked up your ears, you could hear a little crunching noise from her kibble. I would approach very quietly to the area where we had placed her bowl and she was already there, ready to stare at me with that anything-but-reassuring look of hers. Do you see that sort of stain on her little face? It certainly doesn't inspire tranquility, it increased, in a certain sense, the sense of uneasiness that this cat has conveyed for some time...

I have always had a huge passion for cats. I certainly won't hide the fact that I ardently wanted to pet her, and she was also very reluctant to be touched. This circumstance only increased my desire to cuddle her and pick her up. It was a bit crazy, especially at the beginning, when she was truly the classic "fish out of water" in our house. It was clear that she was disoriented, having almost been born and lived entirely in the apartment where my partner's son and his ex-girlfriend lived. I waited patiently for her to get used to our apartment where she had ended up, then I began a slow, very detailed process, in which I tried to progressively reduce the distance between me and her, taking great advantage of the fact that I was the one who fed her, she was the one who depended on me. I wanted to see how long she would actually stand up to me, how long she would stubbornly remain in her positions, that of an insolent kitten. Spoiled and irritating, even if slowly something was changing, if not day by day, then certainly week by week, I was making inroads into her character, so unruly and grumpy, deep down, it was she who needed me, it was she who depended on me for everything, food, cleaning the litter box and everything she needed...

Continues...

This photo is my own, taken with my smartphone...