Rebuilding Trust and Love

With A Traumatized Cat

Mom has shown readers my picture in this newsletter and often talked about me. My sort of sister, Bailey, has even written a couple of articles, but not me—until now. As you can see, I’m a tortie cat named Bella, and I may be eight years old. I’m not sure about the age part or how she came up with that name.

In March 2016, an older couple came into the room that Bailey and I shared at the animal shelter. They had just put their 17-year-old cat, Missy, to sleep and were lonely. He immediately picked Bailey, the cute, playful little black cat, but she looked at the window sill where I was sitting and said, “I want her.” Oh my gosh—they took us both!

I was about a year old at the time, and I don’t remember much before that - other than I was in a shelter and was very scared.

Our new mom and dad were friendly. They provided a warm home, fed us regularly, bought new toys, and cared for us well. Somehow, Dad and I became great buddies; he would brush me for ages—several times a day. I loved it!

But then he changed—I never understood what happened. He didn’t seem to like me anymore, wanted to get rid of me, and thought I was going to do bad things. So, I hid a lot—in the closet, behind the door, under the clothes.

One day, Mom came into the closet where I was hiding, sat on the floor, and told me I didn’t have to worry anymore, that I could come out. I never saw Dad again. She said he had something called dementia and was going to live somewhere else.

Bailey, Mom, and I moved to another apartment, which took some adjustment. However, it wasn’t the same, and I wasn’t sure, so I hid a lot—under the sofa and the bed.

Mom was sad but nice and tried to pet me, but I had nothing to do with it - I would never trust a human again. Sometimes, she cried or got mad, which scared me - even though she said it had nothing to do with me.

But she kept trying - always treating me nicely, allowing me my space. After a while, she said she didn’t want me to hide anymore and wanted me to come out and enjoy the sunshine. It was pretty nice. I grudgingly sat on her lap occasionally and slept with her every night - but I didn’t let her hug me or give me kisses like Bailey did.

She pulled out the big guns a few weeks ago—fresh catnip and brushings. If she keeps that up, I might have to get seriously friendly.

I think the three of us are doing fine and adjusting to our new family life. If you like, I can keep you posted in future articles.

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