The Perils of Being Feral

As anyone, especially any teenager, knows, there are benefits to running wild.  There are also disadvantages.  Mama's hunting trips were endangering her children and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.  After all, she was the boss.

Ghost met an untimely end during one trip.  Tiggie came back with a damaged eye after another.  The eye was glazed over and probably sightless.  And because she was such a fiendish little feral, I couldn't get hold of the little spitfire to help her. 

And then a few trips later, Blue returned dragging one of her back legs.  But when I tried to catch her, I couldn't.  The best I could do was place food and water near the brush pile she was hiding in.  Fortunately, within a week or two, she was back to her imperious little self.

And Mama seemed to be changing her game plan.  When they went off on excursions now, a watcher or place holder was left behind.  Frequently, the watcher was Emily.  This was okay with me because I was smitten with that kitten.  And it seemed to be mutual.  As soon as I'd step out the door, Emily would charge out of hiding to greet me.  Sometimes she'd announce herself by sharpening her claws in my leg.  Yes, there were double standards at play here.  Although she could use my leg as a scratching post, I wasn't allowed to pick her up.  I could pet her and scratch her chin, but if I got too fresh and tried to grab her, she would punish me by staying out of reach for a couple days.  And since I had worked so hard to gain her trust, I didn't want to jeopardize it.

The other three kittens still had not succumbed to my considerable charm.  Although they no longer growled at me, and they stalked me around the yard, a hands off policy remained in place.  Naturally, Mama would still growl.  At times it got on my nerves but I tried not to take it personally.  She was only trying to protect her children.  But somewhere, sometime, some human must have really abused Mama.  She was truly terrified of people and never got over it. 

Once between litters, Mama came to my door by herself.  I stepped out with food.  She stood at the top of the stairs, maybe a foot away from me.
 I placed the food down and said, "Mama, can I pat you?"
I swear she understood me.  Frozen in place, she began to visibly shake.  I think she would have let me, but she was so scared, I didn't have the heart.