Faux Feral

Hi! My name is Chia Pet, but everyone calls me Special. I got the name Chia Pet because when I first came to Purr-Angels' outdoor feeding station, along with my mother, Dabnis, Annie said I looked just like a Chia Pet! I am all black, and when I was a baby, the fur on my body was very sleek, but the fur on my legs was full and bushy.

I am about five months old now. My mother is what is called a feral cat, because she has never known a human's touch, and she is very afraid of people. For my protection, she taught me to be the same way.

So, when I first came to the Diner (all of us ferals call the outdoor feeding station our 'Diner'), I was quite feral, too. The people tried every way they could think of to win me over, but my mother warned me to not trust them. I couldn't help but wonder why they fed me such tasty dinners each night if they didn't really like me, but when I asked my mom, she said you never know with humans. They could be trying to fatten us up for their own dubious reasons, she warned.

My little eyes were starting to crust over, and I developed an Upper Respiratory Infection. Annie told me one night that she was very worried about me, and tried very hard to win my trust so that she could take me to see a doctor. But I was too smart for that, and I managed to avoid all her efforts to become friends.

One night, Annie was waiting for me when I came in for my dinner. She was sitting on the stoop and in her hand she held a long, thin plastic stick with a huge feather attached to the end. Quietly, she swayed the funny looking contraction back and forth across the Diner floor.

I was a bit alarmed at first, but I must admit I was extremely intrigued. My mother warned me once again (by hissing and batting me away) to be cautious, as it might be a trap.

For the next week, Annie was waiting for me each night with the strange looking feather stick and, to my mother's dismay, I eventually just couldn't help myself ... I had to approach and play with that tempting toy. After that, and with each passing day, I became more and more bold and actually found myself looking forward to our nightly game.

One night, while in the middle of a vigorous game, I felt hands swoop down and sweep me up. I set up a terrific howl as I was placed into a small plastic box and taken inside the main building.

Inside, I was placed in overnight segregation. Annie spoke softly to me and told me I was okay and would be visiting the doctor the following day and getting tests. "Tests?" I cried. "I haven't even studied! What if I fail?"

Annie just smiled and reassured me once again that I would be okay and gently stroked my head. I resisted as much as possible, but I just couldn't bring myself to actually strike or bite her, as strangely enough, some part of me actually enjoyed her tender touch.

The next day I passed all my tests and my reward was some sort of bad tasting liquid that I had to be given morning, noon and night. But I figured I must be pretty smart to have passed all those tests without even cracking a book.

Now, after everything we went through together, I love Annie and I even like most other people, too. I love to play the feather game, and rub against people's legs to show my pleasure.

By the way, just in case you're wondering, I got the nickname Special because I am the only cat in the whole shelter who gets along with all the other cats who live here ... so I am allowed to roam freely between all the different sections of the shelter. The other cats are amazed that I can do this, and just shake their heads and say I must be Special.

Annie says that I just didn't have in it me to remain a feral. She said I love to play and get stroked too much to live the feral lifestyle!

It took quite a bit of time for me to decide I didn't really want to be a feral and give the people a chance. But I'm glad I did, because I am having a lot of fun now.

Annie says I am her little Faux Feral, because I am a feral who really isn't. I bet there are a lot of Faux Ferals out there, just like me.

Maybe if people realize that, on the inside, all of us ferals are really just kitty cats, too, the world won't be so eager to dispose of us.

Ferals just haven't been as fortunate as a lot of other cats.

Because, even though I started life as a Feral ... and with time became a Faux Feral ... I am certainly the Genuine Article ... and very Special, too!