The Wait

We met and brought Cupid (hereafter known as Cake or Cū) home yesterday. First off, he is NOT the bantam baby I took him to be from the website's glam shots. He's in no way a chonky boy—more he’s the Godzilla of cats. Possibly the shelter should have put a human in the pics to, ya know, show scale. Poor thing barely fit into my pet carrier.

Here at home, as soon as we opened the bag, Cake attempted to hide under the couch. We spoke soft encouragements without success. He zipped up the stairs and went into deep hiding. Eventually, hours later, Jen found him at the back of Ten’s closet.

We put out food, treats, water and he’s got a Goliath sized litter box but, 17 hours later, he’s still in the dark end of Ten’s closet. We don’t want to rush him. He’s freaked. I totally understand.

The shelter folk told us that they think Cake was on his own for a long time, which says to me that he’s basically feral. Feral and still recovering from his tail amputation.

I don’t know whether he explored the place while we were asleep. I hope so. I know he’ll adjust, he’ll get used to us—it’s just gonna take some time. I knew this already. It still pains me that he’s so afraid.

What can I do, if anything, to ease him into his new digs?