I don’t know about you, but once I set my mind on something, I want to make it happen right then. It was no different with Fred. After the success of two days eating with him, I was ready to get things moving along. But we had a little challenge ahead of us. More than one, really, but one that impacted timing. In less than a month, we were going to be gone for a week. I had a timer on my actions now, and I wanted to get things all neatly done, Fred captured, fixed, and sitting with me on the couch before we had to leave.

But things rarely turn out that way.

Over the next few breakfasts together, I began to move Fred’s bowls closer to me, both for his first small bowl each morning, and with every subsequent additional helping. On July 7^th, just 3 days after our first breakfast outside together, I had the food bowl right up against my leg and he was clearly getting more and more comfortable with this concept of having “regular meals.” He was also getting way more comfortable with me. He still found me a little scary, but not as much as before. He was beginning to associate me with more good things than scary things.

The fuzzy blue pillow, along with a small daily dose of catnip that we brought from our garden back in Philly, became more staples to expect each morning. He loved eating the catnip and thoroughly delighted in rolling around in it when it was sprinkled in the pillow.

Fred was still a young cat, still with enough kitten in him that, once freed from a constant need for self-preservation, could actually play a little bit when given the opportunity. It was so fun to watch him relax and be a “kid”, and just as fun to watch Penelope through the door, clearly annoyed that he was enjoying “her” blue fuzzy pillow.

I left the feline travel case outside each night too, with a few small treats in there. I wanted to get him comfortable with it, thinking it might be possible to just lure him in there and zip it up. I mean, why couldn’t it just be as easy as that?

The treats were always gone in the morning, which gave me a sense of peace that he might be staying closer to us more consistently. I knew then that we were building bonds, but there was a long way to go as well.

Around this time, I also began to recognize the lessons I was learning about trying to guide and lead this relationship. It’s when the idea of this book first came to be. I made small, subtle changes every time he came to visit, trying to see what would work. I wanted to get him to continue to build trust in our relationship.

I tried to get him to take treats from my hand, which he clearly wanted to so badly, but he was driven by a core instinct to protect himself. It was joyful and frustrating all at the same time. Despite all the evidence against it, I still wanted to believe that one day soon he would simply roll over, let me pet him, and walk right into the house to become a part of the family.

I also began to realize that I was living out a quote that I made up myself, long ago. No one’s sense of urgency ever matches my own. When I came up with that statement, it was all about work. Sometimes people want something from you right now, but it really isn’t important to you and your job, so your commitment to meeting their needs isn’t very strong. On the flip side, sometimes you need something from someone else on the team right now, and they simply don’t care, or at least care enough to drop what they are doing to deliver upon your need.

Just because you want something really badly, doesn’t mean it will happen. In work. In life. In a relationship with a feral cat.