By Trudy A. Martinez
Reassuringly, little voices whispered dramatically, “It’s okay, Kit, we’re not going to hurt you.”
Kit was asleep when the two surrounded her with the intent of making friends. Normally, she ran at the sight of them. Now she was unknowingly cornered.
When the words, “It’s Okay — we’re not going to hurt you.” were repeated in unison. Kit’s eyes opened. Obviously, she was not sure what to make of them: Her ears moved from their normal stance, when their hands reached out for her, to a stressed slicked back position.
They petted her, gently. Kit’s ears remained down. “It’s okay,” they reassured her. Their words did nothing to change her countenance. She was stiff and looking for a way to run.
Perhaps she recalled the day before, being cornered and her tail pulled. The perpetrator of that incident was now gently running her hand from the top of Kit’s head slowly over her thick winter fur to the tip of her tail without tugging. The question now was: Was Kit going to relax and take advantage of this freely given affection?
The children continued to assure her that they meant well with each movement of their hands over her body. It was a slow process, a persuasive process, a winning process. Kit’s ears relaxed, relinquishing their stress.
Smiling the children exclaimed, “She likes me! She’s purring,” They added with excitement. “She’s pur-r-ring.”