From Feral Cat To House Cat

We've become in the cat house. 

You know, the house where a bunch of stray cats come to dine? That's us. I buy extra food for them and make sure there's always water.

One of these cats was always pretty friendly. First he started watching us from a distance. Then he'd get closer. And closer to the point where we could pet him. 

And then he started walking into the house and we were like, "Oh. Okay, um." But he was so sweet. 

I was hesitant at first only because I had seen enough episodes of My Cat From Hell where people brought in cats from the street and it did not go well. I'm talking pee around the house, poop in corners...which happens with feral cats sometimes. 

But this cat was different. He found the cat box and used it. Then I was worried about our cat Ruby. Would she get along with him? I mean, she was used to another cat. We had Max, who sadly passed away and there weren't issues. But what about a feral cat?

Well, there was some hissing involved on both parts. But for the most part, they are friends. Kinda. 

My husband said we should call him Plops. It's because he'll walk in and literally plop down anywhere. And it's generally a loud plop. You'll hear a smacking noise when he plops down on the floor. 

Now, things are completely perfect. He still goes outside because that is what he's used to. It makes me nervous, but sometimes he'll dart right out the door. If you try to grab him, he'll race underneath the car so you can't reach him. But then he eventually wants in again. He also defends his home to the point where he's mean to the other stray cats and tries to chase them off. I'm like, no, we love them too! Be nice!

(They all have names too: Papaya, Rambo, and Frank. Papaya lets us touch him. Rambo and Frank let us admire them from a distance.)

Plops makes a fine addition to the family. He enjoys cuddling, a complete opposite from Ruby, who will scratch and stare at you like you're a complete idiot if you touch her too much. 

But Plops? He's all about the love.