The Post-Christmas Miracle

sorta, kinda, miracle-y anyway.
And, I know, I know pics or it didn’t happen. *sigh* The camera's too often across the damn room when I need it.

After two months of subterranean beam life, his return to feral-dom (albeit indoors), our fierce jungle schmooze-beast is BACK! Rocco’s been emerging from his underground lair and NOT just for meals.

Ever since Jen and I went to Arizona for five days, back at the end of October, he’s only been coming down out of the rafters for food breaks and only when no one was around, myself included. *sniff*
Getting him down outta there for chow would go like this:

As he would  stare down at me from his heating duct perch I’d lift his his bowl of Friskies Chicken and Tuna Pâté up under his nose in hopes of tempting him down. I’d speak in soothing, hopeful tones of the tasty feast that awaited him. I’d sprinkle Cheesy Middle Tuna treats on top — while he watched — as further incentive. Then I’d set his dish on the steps up to the kitchen and disappear. *POOF*

No peeking by me was allowed lest he dash back away. I’d return later to spoon up seconds and again to collect his plate.

Over these last two months The Amazing Bob and I’ve spoken to him from the kitchen — called “good boy” — just so he’d know we were still around and considered him part of the famiglia.

And then yesterday, while in the kitchen doing dishes, I spied him sitting all calmly on his usual cellar meal step. He was looking up at me and not with the “oh my god, it’s the old broad who brings me grub. Run Away, RUN AWAY!” stare to which I’ve become sadly accustomed.

Nope!

He just sat there. I dared to inch closer and saw that his food bowl had done a header onto the cellar floor. Poor fella! While keeping up a, hopefully, consoling and reassuring patter, I fixed him another plate and SLOWLY walked toward the the landing.

Shock upon shocks — he met me at the top of the stairs! After snarfing down his chow (while I was RIGHT there!), he looked up with that imploring, Dickensian "Please, sir, I want some more" gaze.

Yes, I dished up more. Of course I did! This time, I set the bowl right IN the kitchen. No probs for our timid warrior. He ambled in and ate and then requested pats. Huh. OK. Wow.

I sat on the floor and started in with the behind ear skritches, petted his poor scarred head, massaged his shoulders. Know what happened next? Yup, he asked for more. And THEN he crawled up halfway into my lap and took a nap!!!

I didn’t dare move. Who knew when a moment like this would come ‘round again. I called out to TAB, in the living room watching his beloved cowboy movies, “can ya bring me the paper dear? I think I’m gonna be here awhile.” He did and I was.

Rocco scampered off downstairs only after Jen stopped by to say hello. A cat so shy that even a fellow known feline doormat freaks him out.

 *sigh*

I was afraid that yesterday might've been a fluke. Today he’d be back to Fearful Rafter Dwelling City. Nope. Not yet at any rate.

Know where he is right now? Ex-Feral Boy is curled up at my feet. He’s napping. What a good boy!