First to steal my heart.

Mamma had 3 kittens in the Spring of 2019.  The little gray one died.  The black one, whom I called Ink (Incubo means "nightmare" in Italian) was fierce in her protection of her food.  Those little murder mitts would flash and slash in an instant.  

The third kitten, another gray tabby stripe, was extra fluffy.  So, I called him "Scruffy," as he seemed ever so slightly unkempt.  He was friendly and learned his name quickly.  Very soon, he was schmoozing my ankles and I could pet him at will. 

 

Scruff had goopy eyes, sometimes so bad that one or the other eye would be glued shut with yellow or greenish gunk.  The vet gave me the name of an antibiotic eye drop.  The first time I tried to treat him, I scooped Scruff up and wrapped him quickly in a towel.  He was not happy and squirmed to get free.  However, at about 4 months of age, I could handle it.  First I wiped the eyes, then administered the drops and wiped again.  All this with one hand!! When I released him, he ran like lightning out the cortile door. I thought he would never forgive me.

Lo and behold, the next day, as I went out with food and looked for him, he approached me with his BIG GREEN eyes wide open!  Well, look at you!  As if he understood what had happened, he thereafter allowed me to put the drops in his eyes with no problem whatsoever.  All I had to do was lift his little head and squirt and he would happily go back to eating.

My heart ached for this cat.  I worried about him constantly, especially if I could not find him (which was rare, he usually stayed close by.)  However, my husband remained adamant about never having a cat again.  

When we embarked on our "neutering" frenzy in January, 2020...Scruffy was high on the list.  Titi was settled in her new home life.  One evening, a local predatory male cat, a large orange cat with a nasty disposition, came around to start trouble.  Even with doors and windows shut for the winter cold, the sounds of cats screeching outside was disturbing and I worried that Scruff, getting older now, would wind up getting into a horrible fight with the "monster" cat.

Upon hearing one more blood curdling screech, my husband went outside and marched right back in with Scuff in tow.  !!!!!!!  A cage was hurriedly prepared and in he went.  How would he react?  Would he wail for freedom?  Try to escape?  Keep us up all night demanding to be let out again?

No, not at all.  He acted like he was completely exhausted.  He ate and drank and slept and slept and slept.  He never made a sound.  

He, too, had a terrible case of worms, so off I went to the farmacia for more medicine.

His appointment with the doctor went well.  I was able to get him into a carrier and once home, he stumbled back into his cage.  He didn't even WANT to come out.  One time I tried to coax him out to explore the house a little a bit.  He closed the door to his cage himself!!!  "Nope, no thanks.  I'm good.  Sleepy, though.  See ya later."  

Eventually, after watching Missy Titi come and go, he ventured out of his cage and discovered his new world.  He didn't seem to mind having chairs and beds and other soft places to rest.  He clearly delighted in getting fed three times a day and having clean, fresh water. 

Over time, he has become calmer and more affectionate.  He was graduated to a large, three shelf cage with a hammock.  As things got....more complicated, he and Titi shared the cage.  At this point, they both only eat in the cage and use the "restroom."  Otherwise, they have free reign all day and night.

Scruff, my beautiful, fluffy boy.  He is a very sweet cat and never would have been able to make it outside, but I will tell you more about that later.