The Golden Moment

Recently someone (from Austin?) told us about a wonderful moment:

wrote:
My Antonio, who I found in my front yard as a tiny kitten, has never
been a lap cat.
He came and sat on my lap today.
Not bad for after a year and a half.

Jeannette responded:

That's such a special moment. It took years with Fenda too, she was an
eighteen-month old semi-feral when we adopted her.


I had a very special moment once myself and I would like to tell you about
it. I had a Tonkinese cat named Susie who came to me as an inheritance. When
I got her she was totally hostile, hissing and spitting and unwilling to
have anything to do with anybody, including me. She would not even stay in
the same room with me. I tried everything I could think of, day after day,
but to no avail. This was a shock to me since I have always been extremely
good with cats and have been able to pet cats who would bite anyone else. I
began to be frightened that she would remain hostile forever, forever lost
to affection and companionship.

I decided to take a drastic step, trusting to the "infinite patience" method
written about by Jack London so long ago and banking on the notion that no
animal would willingly starve itself if food was available. I started
leaving her food out for just half an hour at a time, three times a day. I
placed a low footstool at the entrance to the kitchen where I sat during
those half hours. In order to eat and live, she would be forced to enter the
room with me. I carefully placed the footstool so that she would be well out
of my reach, but so that she would still have to pass by me in order to get
to the food.

The first day went by with no result, but I was still confident. On the 2nd
day the first period came and went and I began to worry. Then midway through
the 2nd half hour there was this brown blur (she was a beautiful chocolate
brown all over) that went past me at the speed of light on its way to the
food bowl. She positioned herself so that she was as far from me as she
could possibly get and still snatch mouthfuls of food. And she somehow, I
swear to God, actually managed to chew her food and growl at me at one and
the same time. It was funny as hell but I kept absolutely still and soon the
brown blur went past me again on its way out.

I sat there and reveled in the knowledge that we were on our way and that
all I had to do was exercise total patience and eventually it would be all
right. I kept moving the stool an inch closer every day, sometimes having to
back up several inches when she spooked but always beginning again and
getting just a bit closer to her path to the food. After a month I was
within reach of her and started inching my hand down toward the floor,
eventually laying it down right across her path. This took a very long time,
months, but slowly I wore her down and she was walking not running and
finally would tolerate an "accidental" contact with my hand. This went on
for some while and then one day The Golden Moment came. I was reading (this
was how I kept my sanity during all those footstool sessions) and was
absorbed in my book. My hand wasn't down on the floor where it was supposed
to be and evidently this (and my obvious lack of attention) was just too
much for Susie to bear.

In the middle of my reading I suddenly felt ... the Head Bonk. The common,
ordinary Head Bonk we are all so used to from our little furry guys, but
which no one had ever gotten from Susie. Astonished, I looked down and there
she was, butting her head against my leg and looking up at me, saying as
plain as day, "Pet me!". I slowly reached down and began petting her and she
purred and preened and I started crying a river I was so full of emotion.
She was saved! She was going to be okay, it was all right at last! From that
day progress was swift and sure, and I was able to do away with the
footstool routine in just a few more days. She went on to become a total
lapcat, affectionate as can be.

All in all, it took me five months of sitting there for half an hour at a
time, three times a day, seven days a week. People have asked me how could I
possibly do that. My response is how could I not? She went from being a
totally hostile animal who would not willingly stay in the same room with me
to being a warm friendly kitty who would sleep with me at night and tuck her
little head under my beard and purr like a box of rocks being shaken. Now
wasn't that worth it?

From reading the postings in this newsgroup for the last couple weeks I am
sure that you who read this will understand why I did what I did and how I
felt when at last that Golden Moment came.

D. R. Crawford wrote:
From reading the postings in this newsgroup for the last couple weeks I am
sure that you who read this will understand why I did what I did and how I
felt when at last that Golden Moment came.

What a wonderful story. Thank you for sharing it.

--
Marina, Frank and Nikki
marina (dot) kurten (at) pp (dot) inet (dot) fi
Pics at http://uk.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/frankiennikki/
and http://community.webshots.com/user/frankiennikki

D. R. Crawford wrote:
From reading the postings in this newsgroup for the last couple weeks I am
sure that you who read this will understand why I did what I did and how I
felt when at last that Golden Moment came.

What a wonderful story. Thank you for sharing it.

--
Marina, Frank and Nikki
marina (dot) kurten (at) pp (dot) inet (dot) fi
Pics at http://uk.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/frankiennikki/
and http://community.webshots.com/user/frankiennikki

"Marina" wrote in message
...
D. R. Crawford wrote:
From reading the postings in this newsgroup for the last couple weeks I
am
sure that you who read this will understand why I did what I did and how
I
felt when at last that Golden Moment came.

What a wonderful story. Thank you for sharing it.


Yes, it made tears come to my eyes. Welcome to the group.

Tweed

"Marina" wrote in message
...
D. R. Crawford wrote:
From reading the postings in this newsgroup for the last couple weeks I
am
sure that you who read this will understand why I did what I did and how
I
felt when at last that Golden Moment came.

What a wonderful story. Thank you for sharing it.


Yes, it made tears come to my eyes. Welcome to the group.

Tweed

"D. R. Crawford" wrote in message
...
...
From reading the postings in this newsgroup for the last couple weeks I
am
sure that you who read this will understand why I did what I did and how I
felt when at last that Golden Moment came.

D.R.
Thanks for sharing. That was a beautiful post.

I, also treasure a golden moment I had with Rosie. I've mentioned before
that she was wild and I had to trap her to bring her inside. But, before I
trapped her, I did as you did, feeding and sitting a little closer each time
until she would eat right next to me with my hand touching the food dish.
But I couldn't touch her. It took about a month to get to this point.
I continued after I brought her inside, until one day she brushed lightly
against my arm.
Then she turned around and looked at me and, I swear, her eyes just lit up,
and she came back and brushed against me again. And then she sat and looked
at me expectantly. I lowered my head, and she bumped heads with me.
I will always treasure that moment for the rest of my life.
Annie

"D. R. Crawford" wrote in message
...
...
From reading the postings in this newsgroup for the last couple weeks I
am
sure that you who read this will understand why I did what I did and how I
felt when at last that Golden Moment came.

D.R.
Thanks for sharing. That was a beautiful post.

I, also treasure a golden moment I had with Rosie. I've mentioned before
that she was wild and I had to trap her to bring her inside. But, before I
trapped her, I did as you did, feeding and sitting a little closer each time
until she would eat right next to me with my hand touching the food dish.
But I couldn't touch her. It took about a month to get to this point.
I continued after I brought her inside, until one day she brushed lightly
against my arm.
Then she turned around and looked at me and, I swear, her eyes just lit up,
and she came back and brushed against me again. And then she sat and looked
at me expectantly. I lowered my head, and she bumped heads with me.
I will always treasure that moment for the rest of my life.
Annie

Marina wrote in message ...
D. R. Crawford wrote:
From reading the postings in this newsgroup for the last couple weeks I am
sure that you who read this will understand why I did what I did and how I
felt when at last that Golden Moment came.

What a wonderful story. Thank you for sharing it.

Thank you.

Had Susie lost a loving owner, or were you her first human "friend"?

Strangely, my forest-feral, Smokey, was a lapcat from the word go.
Nocturne, while always friendly, was not a lapcat. When Smokey began
to sit on our laps, Nocturne began to do it too in order to deny our
laps to her hated rival

--Fil

Marina wrote in message ...
D. R. Crawford wrote:
From reading the postings in this newsgroup for the last couple weeks I am
sure that you who read this will understand why I did what I did and how I
felt when at last that Golden Moment came.

What a wonderful story. Thank you for sharing it.

Thank you.

Had Susie lost a loving owner, or were you her first human "friend"?

Strangely, my forest-feral, Smokey, was a lapcat from the word go.
Nocturne, while always friendly, was not a lapcat. When Smokey began
to sit on our laps, Nocturne began to do it too in order to deny our
laps to her hated rival

--Fil

in article , D. R. Crawford at
wrote on 11/9/04 11:49AM:

Recently someone (from Austin?) told us about a wonderful moment:

wrote:
My Antonio, who I found in my front yard as a tiny kitten, has never
been a lap cat.
He came and sat on my lap today.
Not bad for after a year and a half.

Jeannette responded:

That's such a special moment. It took years with Fenda too, she was an
eighteen-month old semi-feral when we adopted her.


I had a very special moment once myself and I would like to tell you about
it. I had a Tonkinese cat named Susie who came to me as an inheritance. When
I got her she was totally hostile, hissing and spitting and unwilling to
have anything to do with anybody, including me. She would not even stay in
the same room with me. I tried everything I could think of, day after day,
but to no avail. This was a shock to me since I have always been extremely
good with cats and have been able to pet cats who would bite anyone else. I
began to be frightened that she would remain hostile forever, forever lost
to affection and companionship.

I decided to take a drastic step, trusting to the "infinite patience" method
written about by Jack London so long ago and banking on the notion that no
animal would willingly starve itself if food was available. I started
leaving her food out for just half an hour at a time, three times a day. I
placed a low footstool at the entrance to the kitchen where I sat during
those half hours. In order to eat and live, she would be forced to enter the
room with me. I carefully placed the footstool so that she would be well out
of my reach, but so that she would still have to pass by me in order to get
to the food.

The first day went by with no result, but I was still confident. On the 2nd
day the first period came and went and I began to worry. Then midway through
the 2nd half hour there was this brown blur (she was a beautiful chocolate
brown all over) that went past me at the speed of light on its way to the
food bowl. She positioned herself so that she was as far from me as she
could possibly get and still snatch mouthfuls of food. And she somehow, I
swear to God, actually managed to chew her food and growl at me at one and
the same time. It was funny as hell but I kept absolutely still and soon the
brown blur went past me again on its way out.

I sat there and reveled in the knowledge that we were on our way and that
all I had to do was exercise total patience and eventually it would be all
right. I kept moving the stool an inch closer every day, sometimes having to
back up several inches when she spooked but always beginning again and
getting just a bit closer to her path to the food. After a month I was
within reach of her and started inching my hand down toward the floor,
eventually laying it down right across her path. This took a very long time,
months, but slowly I wore her down and she was walking not running and
finally would tolerate an "accidental" contact with my hand. This went on
for some while and then one day The Golden Moment came. I was reading (this
was how I kept my sanity during all those footstool sessions) and was
absorbed in my book. My hand wasn't down on the floor where it was supposed
to be and evidently this (and my obvious lack of attention) was just too
much for Susie to bear.

In the middle of my reading I suddenly felt ... the Head Bonk. The common,
ordinary Head Bonk we are all so used to from our little furry guys, but
which no one had ever gotten from Susie. Astonished, I looked down and there
she was, butting her head against my leg and looking up at me, saying as
plain as day, "Pet me!". I slowly reached down and began petting her and she
purred and preened and I started crying a river I was so full of emotion.
She was saved! She was going to be okay, it was all right at last! From that
day progress was swift and sure, and I was able to do away with the
footstool routine in just a few more days. She went on to become a total
lapcat, affectionate as can be.

All in all, it took me five months of sitting there for half an hour at a
time, three times a day, seven days a week. People have asked me how could I
possibly do that. My response is how could I not? She went from being a
totally hostile animal who would not willingly stay in the same room with me
to being a warm friendly kitty who would sleep with me at night and tuck her
little head under my beard and purr like a box of rocks being shaken. Now
wasn't that worth it?

From reading the postings in this newsgroup for the last couple weeks I am
sure that you who read this will understand why I did what I did and how I
felt when at last that Golden Moment came.



Wow. What a wonderful story!!!!