Degrees of feral

There's feral and then there's FERAL.  When I was growing up, some neighbors thought my family was a touch feral. 

There were some neighbors down the street my family thought were feral. 

To this day, I'm almost certain a couple of my siblings are feral.  One of them I wouldn't trust with my wallet.  The other I wouldn't trust with my life, sad but true.  It all boils down to trust.

"Feral" cats don't always need, like or trust people.  Many of them probably have damn good reasons for their caution around humans. 

Friendships between humans and other animals can be as complicated as friendships between humans.  Some wild cats easily learn to like humans.  To others, it comes more slowly.  Their trust has to be earned.  And I've met a few cats that just don't like humans and never will.

Even among the cats living indoors with me, there are varying degrees of feral.  A friendly feral had a litter of kittens on my porch.  After she disappeared, her children eventually became most of my house cats.  I have handled them since birth and they sometimes think I am their mother.  They trust me and I trust them, even Salem.  I can handle them, groom them, sort of medicate some of them and even put them in evil carriers to take them to the vet.  But even after several years iindoors, they're still feral enough to be reserved and wary of the other humans living in the house.  It sometimes occurs to me that this is a little odd.  And when company comes, most of those cats go into hiding.  They don't like strangers.

Tommy is a whole other story.  We have some mutual trust issues.  Although we've been buddies for a long time and he's moved indoors, his latest injury seems to have changed his personality.  He is wary of being handled and I am wary when handling him.  I pick battles with him carefully.  He will climb up on a chair and cuddle, but when he does, honestly, it makes me a little nervous.  If I want him to do something he doesn't want to do, he's like wrestling a gator.  Although he finally seems to be mellowing somewhat, he will still approach other family members and act friendly.  Then he'll suddenly swing or snap.    

Outdoors, the felines come in varying degrees of feral.  For one to be handled, she'd have to be trapped.  Another is borderline friendly.  She'll occasionally allow a pat.  There's one that is affectionate when she's hungry, but get too fresh by wrestling her into a carrier and you'll have a few scratches to show for your efforts.  And then there's Ginger.  She's more gentle and trusting than indoor Tommy.  Without fear of injury, I can pick her up and carry around.  I do this because she's extremely pesky and tends to get under foot.  When necessary, I can grab her and shove her into a carrier for a vet visit. She's a joy to handle.  So why isn't she indoors?  Probably because she drives me insane.  There's actually such a thing as too friendly.  Humans.  Go figure.