Raisin
Pen 4 is the largest closed feral-cat area in the Sanctuary. There are many ferals in the main courtyard who find their hiding places around the perimeter, behind draped shelves or buildings, but the Pen 4 ferals have their whole pen to themselves, with no other cats invading their territory, and few human visitors. There they have established their own colony, mutually tolerant if not affectionate. Watching the College cats emerging around the back of Pen 2 in the evenings, weaving and bunting, it’s obvious that they love each other’s company – that sort of interdependence is less obvious in Pen 4 where the cats have come from different origins. Now that all the Merritt cats have passed, Len and Lloyd are the most obviously bonded pair, and the others vary in who is interacting with whom at any given time.
Raisin came to us in the summer of 2022, trapped in a Vancouver parking lot as a single cat rather than part of a group, and she has maintained that sense of separateness in Pen 4. She bases herself in a tree at the edge of the pen where someone thoughtfully wedged a box to act as a shelter. She can sometimes be seen from the courtyard path, glaring down from her perch, and she retreats there whenever she feels uneasy. Just beneath her favourite hiding place is one of the “igloo” kennels, and on sunny days she can be found on top of it, enjoying the warmth, but knowing that she has a quick retreat at hand if needed.
She will make her way across to the cabin for something to eat, but rarely opts for the company of other cats. As many of the others do, when a volunteer enters the pen to do some cleaning or offer food, she will disappear, but recently she has been remaining on her igloo seat and watching warily; if you approach and you’re not the right person, she will retreat. Her “right person”, as with many of the Pen 4 cats, is Lisa Brill-Friesen; in addition to her staff work, Lisa is trapper, and foster-mom, and cat-whisperer for ferals.
Fortunately, Raisin is treat-motivated, and Lisa has infinite patience. From offering creamy Churu treats at the end of a long stick, to advancing to accept chicken tidbits from the hand, all the way to accepting firm petting, Raisin has made enormous progress. She is still wary of everyone except Lisa, but she no longer scuttles into hiding when anyone appears. She reluctantly accepted treats from me, but was quick to slash with a razor claw when she felt my hand was too close. Like many of the long-haired ferals, she has some large mats that will probably mean she needs to be netted and at least partially shaved for her summer comfort – not a process she will enjoy, though it is a necessary one.
All the signs say that she is feral – but the vets think she’s around 13-14 years old, and it’s unusual for a feral to live so long. A cat that is a stray rather than a feral may have a distant memory of human contact, and may re-socialize – but equally, may never overcome the fear that came with being lost. Most ferals live in colonies, but Raisin was alone; who knows what her past holds? All we can do is give her the care that ensures that her future holds security, food, and loving voices that encourage her to trust once again.