it was turning cold at about this time so i didn’t mind going back to the basement every day to eat the crunchy stuff, and every day the dish was full and waiting for me.  after a week or so, the human came down the stairs to say hello.  i’m not stupid, so i dashed to the darkest corner of the basement, but thanks to my dang tuxedo/penguin markings, she could still see me.  she sat down on the steps and made clucking noises.  she sounded like chicken who has found a worm.  she looked at me and i at her and neither of us blinked.  then she went back upstairs.  curious, right?  she must have been the one who put the dish where i could find it.  she must want me to eat.  so i ate some more.

the next day, she came down again while i was eating, and again i retreated to the shadows, but this time she sat down beside the food dish and made the chicken noises.  i began to believe she was harmless, so i tip-toed to the dish.  she lowered her head and didn’t look at me.  i wasn’t sure what she had in mind, but in my world, that posture means submission.  curiouser and curiouser!  first the food and now this.  so i figured “ok, what the heck.  it probably won’t kill you to acknowledge the gesture.”

i bumped her head with mine.  we kittens did that every day with our mum and it was always met with a hug or a bath.  but this gal kept her head low and bumped back!  “alright then,” i thought, “let’s try that again.”  i bumped, she bumped.  i bumped, she bumped.  then she stood up, i retreated, and that was that.

day after day there was food, her presence, and an exchange of head bumps.  then she extended her hand as we bumped and touched me.  since mum had taught that human touch is almost always fatal, i expected that my next breath would be my last, yet there i stood, breathing.  quivering, yes, but breathing.  not only that, but the touch was good.  it was warm and gentle.  i let her keep touching.

we continued this introductory ritual for several days, and then there came the time of real discovery.  i ate, we bumped, she touched, but then without warning she put both hands on me and picked me up!  my brain screamed “fight, scratch, run!” but my body said “i don’t know what’s happening but it sure is nice.”  my heart pounded like a mouse heart and i could hardly breathe, but breathe i did, and then i felt a rumble inside.  it was a sound from kittenhood that started low and grew louder as it moved from memory to this moment.  it was the sound mum made when we nursed and pressed our tiny paws into her soft flesh.  it was the sound of contentment; the sound of love, and it was coming from me as this gal held me.  i think i was more surprised than she was.

the long and the short of my story is this:  she brought me in.  i’m a house-cat now.  a handsome, happy, tuxedo, bob-tailed, house-cat, and i couldn’t be happier.  Purr, y’all.