Mo the Destroyer
We have four animals currently, all rescues.
One dog, and three cats.
The most recent addition to the family is Mo, a calico cat of 13 years old. We have had Mo since May 2015.
Mo came to us with a horrible foot infection caused by her front claws growing into her pads (thanks to not having her nails clipped in a timely manner). The Vet quickly fixed that and put her on antibiotics, and warned us that Mo had to have her claws clipped on a regular basis, at least once per month. Mo’s fur was in bad shape, very scruffy and full of lumps of fur. The Vet showed us how to brush her, but sadly that only worked for the Vet! We tried, using the same restraint methods as the vet and barely escaped with our hands and arms in one piece. Mo was one angry cat.
Mo had started life out as a tiny abandoned kitten in a cemetery in the Winter.
Luckily she was rescued, then adopted by a family and was able to spend twelve years at the same home. Unfortunately, her owner got married and moved into a new home. Also unfortunately, her owner’s wife was allergic to Mo and she was kicked out of the house and taken to live in the owner’s recording studio. She lived there for 6 months, putting up with sundry rock and rap musicians until we heard about her.
We were told that Mo loved company and was generally a friendly cat. Sadly after we took her, we did not find those assertions to be accurate.
Mo was pretty nervous of the set up at our house. She had to deal with a dog, which was apparently a novelty she would have preferred not to deal with, and our two other cats.
We carried out the recommended socialization process. Giving Mo her own room, complete with couch, window, bookshelf and litter box. Placing a sturdy child gate across the doorway and allowing the other inmates to wander freely, while Mo remained safe. Mo responded by diving behind the couch and hiding out under the bookshelf.
Taffy covered all bases by hissing at Mo through the barrier and putting out generally negative vibes. Gandalf, ever the peacemaker and the friendly one, tried to make friends. At first, his advances were rebuffed in no uncertain terms.
After a few weeks, Mo progressed from under the bookshelf to on the couch, but under the blanket. Apparently her idea was that if she couldn’t see us, we couldn’t see her.
If we approached the couch and spoke to her, she responded by first purring (encouraging) to purring while growling (not encouraging). if we persisted, she would emit a series of explosive hisses and would rise up under the blanket with cat fists flailing.
After a few more weeks, Mo surprised us by touring the house on an exploration. Then she ventured downstairs a few times to sit with us at breakfast. She soon decided that this was too bold and scary, and returned to her room, however now she took to sitting on the bookshelf In the window.
It was around this time that Gandalf the Grey decided that he needed to socialize Mo. He began to get up on the bookshelf and would squeeze in beside her, awkwardly. She complained at him, but no hostilities broke out. He continued this strategy until he had succeeded in getting her to move over enough for him to fit beside her in a more comfortable way. Mo clearly resented this, but beyond looking annoyed, took no action.
We had taken Mo to the Vet to get her claws trimmed three or four times. This was always an adventure. The first time we attempted to load her into her cat carrier, she peed with fright. She howled in the most awful way imaginable from the start to finish of the journey. Subsequent trips were pee free, but the dreadful vocalizations never abated.
We had progressed to being able to apply the brush three or four times before she would lash out angrily. Her fur was starting to look less messy and she was feeling relaxed enough to begin to clean herself.
We had begun to recognize danger signs with Mo. We spent some time with her every day in an attempt to socialize her with people. We learned that her purring signalled one of two things: 1)The Fear Purr — Don’t hurt me I’m a nice kitty 2) the threatening purr — this purr means “I’m getting mad — watch it”. In the instance of 2, the purr would quickly change into a growl mixed with the purr. The ear position would change from upright to slightly sideways and the pupils would become very big and round and almost phosphorescent. (There is a third type of purr, this purr is the rumbling contented purr of a happy cat. We never hear this type of purr from Mo.)
I read somewhere that when cats feel discomfort, annoyance or pain, they sometimes shake or vibrate one of their front paws. When Mo vibrates one of her front paws it is a precursor to slugging one of us, and definitely signals annoyance.
By six months into her arrival, she was showing less hostility to the others. Mo was tolerating Gandalf, and no longer hissed and complained. Taffy was still hissing and raising her fist, but now, Mo was merely hissing and was holding her ground, whereas before, she would hiss and go into battle mode.
Mo was mostly hanging out on the couch in the library, but she had discovered a cat cube at the back of our bedroom. This was in a corner and under a chair. She figured out that this was a very good hiding place and one in which she could not be surprised. So she took to hanging out back there. She did come out for meals and litter box visits.
Every evening before bed I fix overnight snacks for the cats. Gandalf has it all figured out and comes down and hangs around near the kitchen counter to beg for an advance treat. He normally sits up on his hind legs to get it. To my great surprise, one evening along came Mo, looking for an advance treat. More surprising was that she too sat up and basically begged for that early treat.
She did this for a few months, and then stopped. She goes through various changes in habit but almost always goes back to being really paranoid. She often hides under the blanket on the couch, I guess she still thinks if she can’t see us, we can’t see her.
When we turn out the lights at bedtime, Mo stealthily jumps on the bed, tromps up to lie between us and allows herself to be patted. For about 2 minutes. Then she leaps off and goes away.
It’s been over a year and a half and we live in hope that one of these days, Mo will turn into that friendly pussy cat originally described to us. But we are not holding our breath.
