I have been feeding a feral Maine Coon Cat for some time, but it is very shy of me. I thought maybe it had decided to trust me. I gently pushed it away from the door with my foot.
When I came out with Beau to go shut the chickens up for the night, I didn't anticipate what followed. The wild cat always runs from him, but it became apparent at once that this must be a different, trusting, cat.
I watched in horror as Beau got hold of the poor cat and shook it fiercely. He is a coon hound and it did look like a raccoon. After a few seconds that seemed like hours, the cat escaped and spent the night in the topmost branches of the Bradford Pear tree.
I went out at five a.m. and shone the flashlight. It was still in the tree. I put out a half of a can of tuna, almost guaranteed to take the place of a fireman.
To my surprise, when the kitty came down, she had no visible injuries at all. She was very friendly to me, as if she had always lived here.
Next, I tried to introduce her to Beau when I had him on a choke chain. He lunged at her, so that didn't work at making them into close friends.
My granddaughter Molly had told Izzy that the way to accomplish the seemingly impossible feat was to put the cat in the carrier and bring her inside. So I did. When Beau seemed to become fixated on her, not in a good way, I just turned his head away so he could look at the soothing fire instead.
The process didn't take all that long and now they are fine with each other.
Lissa came and identified the kitten as a Maine Coon Cat. I named her Lovie on account of how affectionate she is. Lovie has the characteristic big paws, furry ears, bushy tail, neck ruff, tiny voice and extremely friendly disposition.
She's not a kitten but probably not full grown, either. Who left her here? She is obviously used to being an inside cat. I drove over and asked my nearest neighbor if he'd lost a cat, but he said no.
Lovie plays hard but then takes long naps. Sometimes, she goes into the cat cage by herself, where she has a cozy wool blankie, formerly a vest I knitted.
Even though she is suited to cold temperatures, we've had snow and minus ten degrees in the last few days, so I am grateful she found a good place in time.
Years ago, another feral cat brought her babies to me. It took me a long time to tame them, but the "Wilds" were the most gentle cats. I brought all four of them here with me when I moved. Oreo is the only one who didn't vanish over the following several years.
So there is a slight possibility that the big Maine Coon Cat who comes at night might be Lovie's mother. I did see that big cat in the daytime when I was coaxing Lovie down out of the tree. Hmmm.
The food left out at night continues to be gone by morning, like a plate of cookies left out for Santa. In return, I got an unexpected furry present.
