Take a Chance on the Shy One

When we talk to people, most of them tell us they want to adopt a cat who’s friendly and cuddly, and really, who can blame them? It’s hard to resist a cat who strolls right up to you, jumps up in your lap, and says, “This is it. This is my home now, and you are mine.”

But for #WiseWednesday, I want to tell you about the cats who don’t walk boldly through a room but cling to the shadows, shyly existing. Those cats are just as worthy of love.

Before I had even known about the JCN and seriously considered fostering cats, I had already known what kind of kitty I wanted to foster.

In the first conversation I had with Susan and Luís, the caretakers of our Kyoto rescue house, I asked them to show me their most difficult and unfriendly cats. They showed me two: a black and white kitty and a tortie. They were shy and approachable to a degree, but they weren’t exactly what we would have considered immediately placeable for a new family.

But that was okay for me. In fact, they were perfect because they were exactly the kind of cat I wanted to foster. The kind that wasn’t absolutely feral and hated humans with a passion, but the kind that just needed a bit of time, patience, and love before they realized that humans aren’t so bad after all.

I knew many shelters didn’t have the time or resources to devote to socializing older cats, but if it was anything I had, it was time, patience, and an utter lack of self-preservation - a combination of things which just happened to be exactly what was needed to get shy cats to open up.

After I saw the black and white cat and the tortie, I told Susan and Luis I’d take them. They asked me several times in shock, “Are you sure? These two? You’re positive?” and I remember laughing and nodding, assuring them I was sure. But the thing was, I was more than sure. I was determined to foster them.

And thus, some time later, my new fosters got delivered from Kyoto to Kanagawa. They arrived as quiet huddled balls of quivering fur in their carrier, eyes blown wide and ears cautiously folded back. I loved them immediately.

They hated me and within minutes of me leaving their quarantine room, they scrambled up my curtains and camped out on top of my air conditioner.

But, you see, the thing is, there’s something incredibly magical and rewarding about slowly gaining a shy cat’s trust. That first time they lean into your hand—carefully, watchfully—and purr, or rub themselves against your leg, or roll over and let you pet their tummy, or walk into your lap and fall asleep… It's so wonderful.

Because you’ve earned their love. They know they’re safe. You’ve shown them that there’s nothing to be afraid of, and they’re home now, here.

I only fostered those two girls for about a month and a half before we were successfully able to find a new home for them, and I was thrilled. I had been able to transform two scared cats who didn’t let anyone pet them into two silly weirdos who stretched all the way out on my bed and yelled at me until I sat so they could climb into my lap.

I went on to foster many more cats like them, who just needed a bit more TLC and a lot of treats.

I fostered a trio of tuxedo cats, who I hand-fed their meals every day three times a day until they realized I was okay for a human being, they guessed. One of them turned out ridiculously outgoing, another would fall asleep in my arms while I held him like a baby, and the third? Well, for how skittish he was, I was proud of how well he tolerated me.

I fostered a calico who refused to eat for three days until I impolitely stuck a tube of Churu into her mouth mid-hiss, and then we were friends. That eventually turned into her trotting to me and lying down for her nightly spa treatment whenever she saw me holding a brush.

I fostered a pair of tabbies who were very close to being released after their spay/neuter surgeries because they were just a little too old and a little too feral. But we gambled on them, and after I spent half the night lying in a dog crate and coaxing Churu into their mouths, they realized humans weren’t so bad. Now the brother hops into my lap whenever I sit on the floor, and the sister rolls over for tummy rubs whenever I pet her side.

I fostered a former stray cat who came to me after not doing so great at her new placement and not eating for two days. I also had to very rudely press food into her mouth until she decided she was actually hungry, and began eating on her own again. Now she leans into my hand before I even reach out to her and nibbles on my fingers if I’m not using exactly both my hands to pet her at once.

To be honest, it’s hard. It’s a lot of time and energy, and sometimes, it doesn’t always work. It depends on the cat’s core personality and initial introduction to people. I’ve failed on several foster placements and simply couldn’t get them to warm up.

But for the ones that I did, there’s no better feeling than seeing those formerly terrified kitties join a family that truly understands and loves them because I was able to break down their walls.

It’s not a job everyone can take on, but if you think you have the understanding and capacity, I’d really recommend trying to foster or adopt a cat who’s just a little more on the shy side. We have a few of those in our Tokyo and Kyoto rescue homes, and if you believe you’re able to open up your hearts and homes to them and help them out, our application form for fostering is right over here.