Stevie was three, and had spent more than half his life in care when we collected him from Stephanie’s on a Friday afternoon in late July 2010. She had told us that although he was a lovely boy with people he knew, and got on well with other cats, he always hid up when people came to look at him, consequently he was overlooked. Other cats came and went, but Stevie remained in his pen.
When we got him home, we put him in the spare bedroom (which doubles as an office) with food, water and a dirt tray a chance to settle quietly, and away from the investigative eyes, ears and nose of Fat Fred, our other cat. Stevie promptly vanished behind the bed-settee!
Two huge eyes peering out of the gloom behind the bed settee were all we saw of Stevie for the first 2 days. If we were in the room he would not come out, full stop. Food disappeared as if by magic between our visits, but that was the only way you could tell a cat was in residence, and we realised that if we ever wanted to see more than glinting eyes we were going to have to pull the settee out from the wall and block off the access to get behind it. Once the deed was done, and all the routes to the “cave” were rendered impassable we left Stevie alone to settle, and when we looked in the room again a little while later he was lying on the bed-settee tight up against the back - a position that would become familiar for some time.
We had to get our new addition used to our voices and us being around; so much of the next couple of days was spent in the spare room with Stevie, watching a portable TV, reading or working on the computer. We talked softly to him much of the time, and slowly built his confidence. He initially cowered on the bed-settee, and if we sat down next to him he would drag himself further away using his front legs, only allowing us to stroke him from a distance. He never moved from the settee when we were in the room. “Did the back legs work” we wondered? On day 5 we discovered the answer when we picked him up, carried him into the living room (the room next door, as we live in a bungalow) and sat him down on the sofa next to us. After a good stroking session, he carefully got off and slinked back into the spare bedroom, his bolt hole. The back legs functioned after all!
The next couple of weeks produced a number of significant milestones; venturing out of the spare bedroom (always the safe haven if he panicked) to the other rooms including the kitchen where he discovered an ever ready supply of cat biscuits that had been there all the time, exploring our quite large garden, and meeting Fat Fred face to face. Being quite a large boy (about half as big again as Fat Fred, who as his name suggest is not small) we had started to call him Big Boy; a name that morphed into Big Bob, courtesy of Al Murray’s TV program.
3 months later, Big Bob is now fully integrated into the family, although he is still very nervous, particularly of females – maybe he had been mistreated by a woman in the past? He much prefers men and we wonder whether we should have called him Gay Gordon instead of Big Bob! He is an absolute sweetie and is happiest having his head stroked when cuddled up on the sofa against a leg – male of course! If the head stroking stops for too long, he twists round and looks longingly at you until you re-start. Stephanie had told us that he liked other cats, and he seems to idolise Fred, following him around in the hope that they can play together, but although there are no problems between them – they eat out of the same dish quite happily - Fred just does not want to play, at least not indoors - maybe that will change in time?
If you take on a nervous cat, please don’t give up after a day or a week, give your new addition time to settle, and build the trust gradually – your patience will almost certainly be rewarded. Building Bob’s trust was hard work at times, taking several weeks before he became confident with us, but it was well worth it as we now have a lovely affectionate furry friend, who hopefully will be with us for many years to come.