Foodar was a stray cat that was sneaking into our garage to eat the cat food. He’d been out in the wild for awhile, and it took several months before I could be reasonably sure I wouldn’t get bit if I touched him.
He was one of the smallest adult cats I’d ever seen. He’d pick his way around the other cats with his little tough-guy swagger, keeping at least a foot of space, and hiss when any of them got too close. Even before I started petting him he would roll around on the ground with his belly up.
He didn’t come every day to eat. He’d visit four or five days in a row and then skip a couple. After he got his own food dish he wouldn’t eat out of any of the others. He’d empty it then wait for me to refill it. He could eat a good two cups without pausing. Then he’d head outside like he had a chore to take care of right away.
He wasn’t so tiny and delicate when we took him to the vet for his first shots. But he was sick, with both feline immunodeficiency virus (FIV) and feline leukemia virus (FeLV). We already had an indoor cat, Sydney, and couldn’t risk her getting infected too.
He’d belonged to someone before he became wild. He didn’t struggle at all when I picked him up, and he trusted us. I feel like I betrayed him.