Linus

Linus is a strange cat.  We "rescued" him and his sister, Lucy, in 2011 when we lived in Phoenix.  Someone left them and two others in a pet carrier outside of our daycare.  In July.  With no food our water.  They weren't the friendliest of cats to say the least.  Fortunately, one of the moms worked for a veterinarian and she took them all with her to the office and had the doc look them over.  They were just kittens.  Severely malnourished, full of parasites and rather aggressive, they weren't exactly adoptable right away.  But the vet agreed to sterilize them, get them back to health and adopt them out.  We happily told them we would take any that were left--however many that happened to be. 

Two of the four were taken rather quickly.  The other two took much longer to warm up to people but seemed to be much calmer when they were with each other.  We brought them home and turned them loose in our house.  They quickly found places to hide and we saw very little of them for months.  Lucy warmed up to us within a few months and is now fully integrated into the family.  She purrs and cuddles like any other cat.  Linus--not so much.

He's like a small white badger who roams our house.  He has his favorite places to hide and when we find one, it's matted over with cat hair.  If you get too close, he darts away.  If you look like you might be coming in his general direction, he scurries off.  On occasion, he presents his bum to you for scritching but then cowers when you dare to try to touch him.  Do NOT try to pick him up.  Do NOT try to pet him.  Don't even look in his general direction.  He's never been a friendly cat.  However, now that we've had him for nearly 9 years, he seems to be getting somewhat used to us.  He's out of his hiding places more often and sometimes he will hop up on the couch and allow a scritch or two--if I don't move too fast. 

A few months ago he developed a severe bladder infection that was causing his kidneys to shut down.  Getting him to the vet was easy--he was so lethargic that he just didn't care.  But when he was back up to his usual grumpy self, they sent him home...with instructions to give him medicine.  Um, what?  I tried once--we tried throwing a towel over him (at their suggestion) and tried to force open his mouth.  Big mistake.  I got quite a gash that had to be treated with antibiotics.  When we managed to get him back to the vet for a check up they wisely got out these gloves that are normally used for large birds with talons. 

I wonder what he'll think with a baby in the house...

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