My first primitive attempt to get Fister to live with us entailed a few shrimps and a little wickerwork cage and ended in ignoble defeat. How naive can one be! We carefully placed the cage beside the back yard door, Randi placed some shrimps in it, and we waited with bated breath. Sure enough, his curiosity eventually got the better of him, and soon he was halfway into the cage. That was when I made my first big mistake. As I tried to push him in the last little bit, he of course immediately turned and was halfway out in a flash. That was when I made my second big mistake!
Having had wild cats before, I thought I could subdue him by grabbing him by the nape of the neck and holding him down, so I grabbed him by the back leg. But he just did something very serious very quickly, and raced off across the yard and onto the shed roof in a second flat. I could feel nothing, but knew something had happened. I looked over at Randi and said “I think he got me” and then looked down at my hands. What a sight!
The next morning, still feeling a bit woozy from the injections and my unpleasant visit to hospital, Randi easily persuaded me that this was not the most intelligent way to tame a cat, and that we would have to use lots of patience and all our cunning.
So we started out enthusiastically on our little project, not realising quite how long (or how much patience!) it was going to take. Living on the first floor (second floor in America!) was a bit of a problem, so we used to wedge the back yard door half open, and began to try and persuade him up the stairway.
What on earth could there be behind
that door?
He was, as all cats, extremely curious about the doorway, but also extremely nervous and suspicious. Randi would go down and call him, then lay a few shrimps on the bottom stairs. After much hesitation, he would creep up, hungrily consume the shrimps and race back down again. A few days later, same procedure, but moved just a couple of steps further up. This went on for several weeks, until one day, having got used to reaching our kitchen door so often, he actually dared to cross the threshold! We watched spellbound as he crept very cautiously across the kitchen floor to the plate of goodies, greedily munched away, and then fled instantly back down to his yard. I think that this was when he adopted what I call the bulldozer method of eating, just sticking his nose all the way in and scooping up anything that gets in the way. He got used to the kitchen and did this more and more, but great care was needed. We had to stand like two pillars of salt, immobile and silent, since the least little sound or movement would send him straight back down the stairs again at warp speed.
Lets get this lot onboard while I can! (Recent photo)
This went on for weeks, he would creep in, wolf down what he could as quickly as possible, and retire immediately. But there was another door! As he ate, his head would rotate back and forth like a radar antenna, constantly on the watch, like an antelope at a watering hole, afraid of any unusual sound or movement, but he would often sit for a moment, just staring at that door and speculating. What could there be out there?
Finally the day came, and he plucked up courage and wandered out through that next door (the third one in his life!) and into the corridor. And what does he see? More doors! There was one that opened into the bathroom, one that opened into my office and from there another opening into our living room. He ignored the office, but after a couple of timid forays into the living room, he discovered - THE CARPET! This was absolute magic. Thick and soft and warm, and spread out as far as the eye could see. What heaven. What unspeakable luxury! He instantly fell in love with it, and began to roll and scratch and roll and scratch until he would suddenly realise that he was in foreign territory and flee again. As his mum probably taught him - you’ve got to be careful out there - and don’t forget to watch your back!
Sunbathing on his carpet
Unbeknown to us, it was probably already at this point that he made his decision to take over the place and become King of our Castle! From then on, it was just a matter of time, and he began to slowly but surely collect together a network of territories that would end up dominating our entire flat. But that’s another story!
John
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I love hearing about Fister.
And he's such a beautiful orange kitty. I love that picture of him sunbathing on his carpet. What a handsome guy. 
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