Raleigh is making progress in his trust. Over the past week, I have had to give him eye drops, and that meant catching him. This, in turn, used to mean following him as he fled from one room to another, from one corner to another. (I didn’t chase him; I figured that would lead to more fear.) The last of the drops had to be given yesterday, and by then he was moving a little to avoid me, but not running. He still hates being picked up, flinching and wincing the whole time. But he submits to the terror with greater resignation now. I may continue to pick him up to allow him to grow used to it. He doesn’t mind being on my lap once he is there. He relaxes as I brush or stroke him. When he decides to get off, he walks, rather than runs.
Then there are the moments when he is hungry or simply wants my attention for some unfathomable reason. Then he will talk and talk and talk, and come right up to me, slowly, cautiously, but more than willing to be petted and touched. Formerly afraid of approaching me in either the bedroom or the bathroom, he has started coming up to me there, too.
The Peach will always be a timid and easily startled cat. But as he realises that he is safe, and grows to think of the cosy apartment as his home, his confidence will increase. I would like to see him adopted, of course, with a loving and permanent family of his own. But cats don’t know fostering from forever, so however Raleigh begins to feel better is fine with me.