Fizgig the Homeopathy Cat 3

Over a period of time I was able to win Fizgig's trust. When people asked if she was my cat, my standard reply was that I was her person which is very different.  She was obviously aware of the classic quote that cats find humans 'useful domestic animals.'  Training her person took a long time but she finally had me trained to her satisfaction. Cats are animals of set routines and her routines were more set than most cats. She only grudgingly accepted Keith and when family or friends called in, she would either rush to get outside or head to our bedroom where she would stay until she felt safe enough to come back out.

She had a routine that included getting under my feet until I fed her. The fact that there was food in the bowl didn't matter. She had to actually hear the rattle of the container before she would stop pestering me. She had set times to be fed, set places where she could be found and she never left our section. I was the only person she trusted and when I call out to her, she would reply. Letting her in each morning is quite a routine with Keith silently laughing in the bedroom as we chat to each other. She is very polite and always gives a little vocal meow of thanks when doors are opened for her. She has a way of sitting by a door she wants  opened, looking hard at it and if we don't respond, there is a petulant grumble of complaint that continues until the door is opened.

And so the years went by (to be continued)

Fizgig the Homeopathy Cat 2

Once home with this little scrap of fur, Keith and I attempted to connect with her. Her response was to crouch down and growling loudly non-stop, she would  quickly scuttle into or under a suitable hiding place. Watching her, Keith promptly named her 'Fizgig' after a character from the movie 'The Dark Crystal' who made a lot of noise and little else.

A branch of the family in transit had asked us to store their baby's cot which was in the bathroom. (Where else would one store a cot?) A box under  the cot with a cover Fizgig could burrow into and under, a kitty litter box plus food and water and we had a boarder in the bathroom. I patiently spent time each day trying to win this little creature's trust which proved futile, and after a week I took her to the local SPCA and asked "Is she feral?"  After watching her for a while the response was that she was not feral but had been mistreated to a point where she had lost all trust in people.

Knowing this gave me the renewed patience to slowly and gently build up her trust in me. She reacts badly to males which made us suspect that she had been mistreated by a male. The sight or sound of a male would cause her to panic and run for cover so Keith wasn't able to spend any time with her initially.

After some time I was able to bring her into the sitting room in the evenings while we were watching TV.  I would place her on the back of the sofa which was against a wall and from here she would sit quietly all evening watching us until I would return her to the bathroom. (to be continued)

Fizgig the Homeopathy Cat

This is Fizgig now 13 years old. Her story for me started when I was the local Public Health Nurse and visited one of my small country schools. This was not my usual day or my usual time to visit and I don't recall why I was there that day. It was lunchtime and I walked into this buzz of excited children.  A mother cat and her kitten had been dumped at the school and after a week the kitten had just finally been caught.

I was taken into the classroom to see her in the cardboard box she had been put in and the cover someone had placed over her was lifted. There was this tiny scrap of black and white fur growling furiously at everyone. The teachers were telling the children that she was probably a feral cat and would have to be put down. I looked at the children's faces, looked at this little scrap of fur and said I would take her back to the vet in town and get her checked. If she needed to be put down, I would arrange it.

At the vet clinic this obviously sick little kitten, full of worms and struggling to breathe but still furiously growling was checked over. She made no attempt to bite or scratch just growled from the bottom of her little being. She had a strong little spirit and responded to treatment so after paying out $200 plus I found myself the somewhat bemused 'owner' of yet another cat.  (to be continued)