Posted on December 4, 2006
By Trudy A. Martinez
Reassuringly, little voices whisper dramatically, “It’s okay, Kit, we’re not going to hurt you.”
Kit, my flame point white Siamese cat, is asleep when the two young children surround her with the intent of making friends. Normally, she runs at the sight of them. Now she is unknowingly in a corner surrounded by them with nowhere to run.
When the words, “It’s Okay — we’re not going to hurt you.” are repeated in unison, Kit’s eyes open. Obviously, she is not sure what to make of them: Her ears move from their normal stance, when their hands reach out for her, to a stress slick back position.
They pet her, gently. Kit’s ears remain down. “It’s okay,” they reassure her. Their words did nothing to change her countenance. She is stiff and looking for a way to run.
Perhaps she recalls the day before, being in the corner and her tail pulled. The perpetrator of that incident is 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 is: Is Kit going to relax and take advantage of this freely given affection?
The children continue to assure her they mean well with each movement of their hands over her body. It is a slow process, a persuasive process, a winning process. Kit’s ears relax, finally relinquishing their stress.
Smiling the children exclaim, “She likes me! She’s purring,” They add, “She likes me.” With excitement, “She’s purr-r-ring.”