First, he is apparently a she. It is hard to tell because cats’ genitalia, like some presidents’, can be tiny and indeterminate, resembling various minuscule species of fungi.
Grandpa has legitimate grievances and every reason to be wary. She doesn’t deserve the analogies in your post. Try imagining how it might feel to be left in a box you couldn't get out of in 90 degree heat and then put in a basement into which scary people come backed up by an even scarier dog above. Healing takes time. I hope the good news for your family and Grandpa is that you will continue to be patient and kind.
Damn! People who treat animals like this poor kitty was treated make me sad and very pissed that they themselves are so damaged they would sadistically subject an animal to this treatment. Humans can be so ugly. Mar is right - healing takes time and sometimes never fully reverses the damage. Wonder what the vet would say to (I'm serious) kitty-sized doses of prozac (or equivalent) to help with readjustment? Might allow the cat to accept the occasional friendly gesture.
There is a plug-in diffuser product called Feliway that emits a pheromone that helps to calm stressed cats. We used it in all cat rooms in my large municipal shelter. Great stuff for horrified kitties like Grandpa.
Cats remember for 5 days. Cats recover in six weeks. Continue the food, the water, the clean cat box, but take off all the pressure to relate to you. She'll come around soon, and show thanks to you for the vastly better situation she finds herself in. Just stop pushing the petting/playing/human satisfaction part of the relationship - she'll end up coming to you.
My wife's ferals, which got established with condo and buffet under my tractor shed, bolted for cover every time I went to put out chow. Now, they've begun to hang out up around the house and on the front porch, looking at me curiously when I come out. Guessing it won't be long until they're ready for skritches.
My husband brought home a stray tuxedo kitten that showed up on the car lot where he was working at the time. We named her Tweak, and she was a complete asshole to everyone and every creature except him. She ADORED him-- would climb onto his chest and nuzzle his beard. She would take swipes at me if I so much as touched her. She used to lay next to the water fountain and guard it from all of the other pets (three other cats + two dogs) unless we shooed her away. There was a cat door going to the basement where we kept the litter boxes (4 cats, so plural), and she would position herself next to the door so that she could bop anyone who poked their head through like a Whack-A-Mole. We had to put another litter box on the second floor in a spare bedroom because she couldn't guard both the staircase and the cat door at the same time, which gave the other cats a reasonable chance to pee in peace!
That pheremone stuff is miraculous. It's a calming scent and might be very useful for Grandpa. You can get a plug-in type scent release. I like catnip for scratch-tree training, though. Definitely a good idea to get both, Gene.
My daughter adopted a older "community" cat from a shelter she volunteered for in Salt Lake City. He was such a jerkface that nobody wanted to adopt him, so he languished in the shelter and boredom-ate, thus gaining enough weight to be named Cartman (the big fat asshole). They slowly bonded over time and she brought him home on a "trial" that lasted 5 years. She re-named him Mac, got his weight down and gave him oodles of love and care. Mac was utterly devoted to her, but still very testy around others. Her husband had to lock himself in the bathroom if he sneezed because Mac would attack him and sometimes draw blood. Regardless, he was perfect in my daughter's eyes. She was heartbroken when he died last year.
Posts like this need a drink warning. DO NOT DRINK ANYTHING WHILE READING THIS POST. I almost got beer back up through my nose at "the big fat asshole."
I suggest "Grandpa" may be more like most of us rather than Demento: pissed off beyond belief at being abused by humans (or human-like beings). She may eventually get over it. I won't. I'm sure Rachel is aware that Demento and his merry band of miscreants intend to bring Planned Parenthood to its knees with major funding cuts, including yet another cut in the Big Beautiful Betrayal Bill. And the Imperial Court just last week said states could stop Medicaid funding for PP as a part of the rabid right scheme to defund even non-abortion healthcare in its effort to destroy the institution.
Booger was a scrawny tortoise shell. Real name was Candy, but she got Booger in solidarity with a friend whose puppy, Sugar, had been snakebit on a mountain outside Charlottesville. Early trauma for Booger was being thrown away. Bones, one of my coworkers at a cemetery, found her in the trash when he was taking his out, and I ended up with her. She hated all humans except me. Hated cats and dogs, too. Was a psycho killer. I don't think she felt anything for the small birds and mammals she killed. For a while she lived with a friend who had a trailer in Morgantown. The friend went away for the weekend. Booger peed on the table where my friend usually ate. One day on Monument Ave in Richmond she literally scared the shit out of a kitten that had been hanging out innocently in the gutter. Booger was always ready to die fighting over anything, and she probably did at about 9 years old, which is beyond extraordinary for a small creature who spent days on end hunting in big woods. She was briefly reincarnated around the corner from me. I told my dog not to mess with that cat because she was psycho. The dog is headstrong, but he simply said, "Got it."
Okay, so reading the comments, I'll confess that even my favourite cat of all time will occasionally launch herself at me and chomp. But NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER (have I reached Lear's level?) would I link the most vicious cat to that . . . that . . . that . . . words fail me.
We adopted a Siamese cat named Ozzy from a shelter. Like many Siamese, he's a complete asshole who has not only intimidated the other cats, but the (much bigger) dogs. We're quite certain that he was named after Ozzy Osbourne, the Prince of Darkness.
Coincidentally, but unsurprisingly, I named my asshole cat Ozzy for that reason. He took chunks out of people just for giggles. Even after treats and petting. Not that he ever smiled. Not a Siamese but very big grey boy. So I had my friend and his two sons care for Ozzy while I was away for two weeks. They carried him around like a puppy [I saw pics] and loved him to pieces. He was obviously a guy's guy. So they kept him! Asshole no more.
My cat was raised in a filthy hoarder house, abused, and then was rescued and lived in a cage in a shelter for 8 months. Nobody wanted to adopt him because he was 5 years old. It was love at first sight on my part, but I dealt with his asshole behavior for a few months. Now we are best friends.
My cat is so chill that if she took any anti anxiety she would be in a coma. For the vet that would be a good goal because she goes nuts, but for everyday life she would be knocked out I'm sure.
My cat's nickname was Beasty because of her behavior. She grew up in a family's garage because the dad was allergic to cats so she and her sibs didn't get socialized to humans very well. She wasn't really that bad but thought bare feet were a danger or food because she would nip my ankle if I walked by with bare feet. Even sandals stopped her from biting.
Grandpa has legitimate grievances and every reason to be wary. She doesn’t deserve the analogies in your post. Try imagining how it might feel to be left in a box you couldn't get out of in 90 degree heat and then put in a basement into which scary people come backed up by an even scarier dog above. Healing takes time. I hope the good news for your family and Grandpa is that you will continue to be patient and kind.
Damn! People who treat animals like this poor kitty was treated make me sad and very pissed that they themselves are so damaged they would sadistically subject an animal to this treatment. Humans can be so ugly. Mar is right - healing takes time and sometimes never fully reverses the damage. Wonder what the vet would say to (I'm serious) kitty-sized doses of prozac (or equivalent) to help with readjustment? Might allow the cat to accept the occasional friendly gesture.
There is a plug-in diffuser product called Feliway that emits a pheromone that helps to calm stressed cats. We used it in all cat rooms in my large municipal shelter. Great stuff for horrified kitties like Grandpa.
Problem there is how do you get the treatment down the cat's throat? It would be even more traumatizing.
You kinda know that those things you bring up are why they took Grandpa in, right?
Yes, indeed. Sorry if that wasn't clear in my comment. Thank you.
xoxo
Can I introduce Grandpa to the person that decided to replace the traditional style of crossword puzzle in the Post?
Bwahaha!! Perfect!!!
Cats remember for 5 days. Cats recover in six weeks. Continue the food, the water, the clean cat box, but take off all the pressure to relate to you. She'll come around soon, and show thanks to you for the vastly better situation she finds herself in. Just stop pushing the petting/playing/human satisfaction part of the relationship - she'll end up coming to you.
My wife's ferals, which got established with condo and buffet under my tractor shed, bolted for cover every time I went to put out chow. Now, they've begun to hang out up around the house and on the front porch, looking at me curiously when I come out. Guessing it won't be long until they're ready for skritches.
Yep. Read some of the James Herriot books, similar stories.
She will come around in her own time. That’s what cats do. And when she does, you and Rachel will be happy you saved Grandpa’s life.
My husband brought home a stray tuxedo kitten that showed up on the car lot where he was working at the time. We named her Tweak, and she was a complete asshole to everyone and every creature except him. She ADORED him-- would climb onto his chest and nuzzle his beard. She would take swipes at me if I so much as touched her. She used to lay next to the water fountain and guard it from all of the other pets (three other cats + two dogs) unless we shooed her away. There was a cat door going to the basement where we kept the litter boxes (4 cats, so plural), and she would position herself next to the door so that she could bop anyone who poked their head through like a Whack-A-Mole. We had to put another litter box on the second floor in a spare bedroom because she couldn't guard both the staircase and the cat door at the same time, which gave the other cats a reasonable chance to pee in peace!
This made me laugh. She was an evil genius.
Try some catnip or some pheremone spray(like Feliway) to help her feel more relaxed. And yes, keep doing stuff or being around her while ignoring…
That pheremone stuff is miraculous. It's a calming scent and might be very useful for Grandpa. You can get a plug-in type scent release. I like catnip for scratch-tree training, though. Definitely a good idea to get both, Gene.
No animal (non-human) is an asshole. That's reserved exclusively for us. And we are so good at it.
have you never been acquainted with a cat?
My whole life. I speak Cat.
Asshole.
My daughter adopted a older "community" cat from a shelter she volunteered for in Salt Lake City. He was such a jerkface that nobody wanted to adopt him, so he languished in the shelter and boredom-ate, thus gaining enough weight to be named Cartman (the big fat asshole). They slowly bonded over time and she brought him home on a "trial" that lasted 5 years. She re-named him Mac, got his weight down and gave him oodles of love and care. Mac was utterly devoted to her, but still very testy around others. Her husband had to lock himself in the bathroom if he sneezed because Mac would attack him and sometimes draw blood. Regardless, he was perfect in my daughter's eyes. She was heartbroken when he died last year.
Posts like this need a drink warning. DO NOT DRINK ANYTHING WHILE READING THIS POST. I almost got beer back up through my nose at "the big fat asshole."
I suggest "Grandpa" may be more like most of us rather than Demento: pissed off beyond belief at being abused by humans (or human-like beings). She may eventually get over it. I won't. I'm sure Rachel is aware that Demento and his merry band of miscreants intend to bring Planned Parenthood to its knees with major funding cuts, including yet another cut in the Big Beautiful Betrayal Bill. And the Imperial Court just last week said states could stop Medicaid funding for PP as a part of the rabid right scheme to defund even non-abortion healthcare in its effort to destroy the institution.
Thanks to Rachel for rescuing Grandpa cranky pants. There's no way to knoe what kind of life the cat had, but safe to say that people were not kind.
GPCrankyPants. Perfect.
Booger was a scrawny tortoise shell. Real name was Candy, but she got Booger in solidarity with a friend whose puppy, Sugar, had been snakebit on a mountain outside Charlottesville. Early trauma for Booger was being thrown away. Bones, one of my coworkers at a cemetery, found her in the trash when he was taking his out, and I ended up with her. She hated all humans except me. Hated cats and dogs, too. Was a psycho killer. I don't think she felt anything for the small birds and mammals she killed. For a while she lived with a friend who had a trailer in Morgantown. The friend went away for the weekend. Booger peed on the table where my friend usually ate. One day on Monument Ave in Richmond she literally scared the shit out of a kitten that had been hanging out innocently in the gutter. Booger was always ready to die fighting over anything, and she probably did at about 9 years old, which is beyond extraordinary for a small creature who spent days on end hunting in big woods. She was briefly reincarnated around the corner from me. I told my dog not to mess with that cat because she was psycho. The dog is headstrong, but he simply said, "Got it."
Okay, so reading the comments, I'll confess that even my favourite cat of all time will occasionally launch herself at me and chomp. But NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER (have I reached Lear's level?) would I link the most vicious cat to that . . . that . . . that . . . words fail me.
We adopted a Siamese cat named Ozzy from a shelter. Like many Siamese, he's a complete asshole who has not only intimidated the other cats, but the (much bigger) dogs. We're quite certain that he was named after Ozzy Osbourne, the Prince of Darkness.
Coincidentally, but unsurprisingly, I named my asshole cat Ozzy for that reason. He took chunks out of people just for giggles. Even after treats and petting. Not that he ever smiled. Not a Siamese but very big grey boy. So I had my friend and his two sons care for Ozzy while I was away for two weeks. They carried him around like a puppy [I saw pics] and loved him to pieces. He was obviously a guy's guy. So they kept him! Asshole no more.
My cat was raised in a filthy hoarder house, abused, and then was rescued and lived in a cage in a shelter for 8 months. Nobody wanted to adopt him because he was 5 years old. It was love at first sight on my part, but I dealt with his asshole behavior for a few months. Now we are best friends.
Definitely try Feliway. You might also try spiking some wet food with a little gabapentin to interrupt the intense fear/anger/stress she is feeling.
We use kitty Prozac, administered topically by swabbing Sparky’s ear once a day. She LOVES it!
A major problem with gabapentin is that it tastes bitter, making it easy to detect in food. Some cats will not eat food laced with gabapentin.
My cat is so chill that if she took any anti anxiety she would be in a coma. For the vet that would be a good goal because she goes nuts, but for everyday life she would be knocked out I'm sure.
My cat's nickname was Beasty because of her behavior. She grew up in a family's garage because the dad was allergic to cats so she and her sibs didn't get socialized to humans very well. She wasn't really that bad but thought bare feet were a danger or food because she would nip my ankle if I walked by with bare feet. Even sandals stopped her from biting.