Cherry Pie: The Hunter Emerges

How time flies! We’ve hit the three-month mark with Cherry and she is such a transformed cat. When she cuddles up to me at night it is hard to believe this was the same angry, depressed and scared cat whom I adopted.

First Quarter Storm ©MTHerzog

Her fur is growing back beautifully, and I realise now that I have more work with her than Champagne and Lolita put together. The trick, however is convincing Cherry that brushing is good for her. As far as cats go, she is classically stubborn and will do her thing, not what is suggested. Well, cat or female, take your pick.

Cherry is an excellent hunter, with an accuracy that makes me wonder what her life was before. I made a mistake of locking her out on the balcony yesterday. Before leaving for work, I checked the apartment and could have sworn that she was curled up somewhere. Sneaky little thing had literally gone behind my back and hidden among the pots. When I  returned in the evening, a very thirsty cat stomped back in. Cherry had no appetite for dinner, and I simply assumed she was mad at me and refused any peace offerings I placed at her feet. Oh boy was I wrong.

When I went out to water my plants I discovered that madam had taken matters into her own claws. I have a regular clientele of birds who drop in for a snack or two. In the absence of a food bowl, Cherry caught herself a feathered meal. Self-service rules!


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