SCOOTER THE SCOOTER

Scooter is a member of the original group of feral kittens we adopted back in 2011 that include Roscoe. They were the offspring of Patches, one of the three feral kittens who approached me in late 2010, looking for food. The other two were Patches’ sister, Teena, and brother Shadow. They literally came scratching at out back door in late November 2010, the last kittens of the 2010 season; I began feeding them and they took up residence in the garden our landlady had out back. Sadly for Patches, she wasn’t a successful mother cat; she lost her first litter when she hid them in our attic and they died in a June heatwave; listening to their mewling as they passed away in a part of the attic too low for me to get to them was heartbreaking. Roscoe, Sam and Scooter, and their sister Lucky who was adopted by a friend of ours, were Patches’ second litter, born that September. After we caught these kittens, I was able to catch Patches and take her to Fix Nation for a TNR; unfortunately when she came back to the yard, she ran off and I never saw her again.

Scooter managed to not get caught that week she and the others were weaned. We were wondering what had happened to her when she reappeared a week later, scooting across the back yard like a grey-and-white streak. By then she was hungry enough to go for the food in the trap and got brought inside. She took to living inside with the others, but was very standoffish in her relationship with us. It took several years for her to decide she actually liked us. I would find her sitting on the bathroom sink in the morning, waiting for me. She would rub against my hand, and eventually she let me stroke her - but only at a distance. Picking her up was out of the question. I called her our “semi-feral.”

She would hang out with us, but always just out of reach. Eventually she would jump on my knee while I was watching TV and sit there watching me, but if I reached for her, she was gone.

Two years ago, she varied the morning bathroom routine by letting me pick her up, but only for a moment. This eventually grew to several minutes, but contact with us was always on her terms. She always ate her meals under a piece of furniture.

And she always scooted around the house. Hence her name, Scooter.

Two years ago, she jumped on my knee one night, then advanced to my lap, where she let me pet her for a few minutes. She also started waiting for her meals in the cat tree just outside the kitchen, and when I put the food there in the cat bed, she ate there. That became Scooter’s Dining Area. If she came around while I was sitting in the living room, I could put my hand out, palm down, and she would do a little leaping dance, pushing herself up against my hand and letting me pet her for an instant, and repeating with her little dance.

Last summer she came on my lap and curled up there. She would stay there but I couldn’t touch her or she’d jump off . Around Labor Day, she let me start petting her. She now acts like a pretty normal house cat, but still only on her terms. She comes over when she wants to be with me. She sits at my feet and waits for an invitation to jump up, and she now lets me stroke her and play with her. But it’s only for so long as she wants, so long as I don’t do anything that surprises her or appears to be a threat.

She’s gotten closer this past month, now that it’s only me in the house. When Jurate was here, she would jump up on the bed and sleep on the end of the bed overnight with Jurate, and she would come up and nuzzle Jurate’s hands.

She has her own sweetness. I like her “chipmunk” look.

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