Sometimes when you adopt a cat from a welfare organization you really don't know what to expect, especially after you hear the stories of what some of these precious lives have gone through. I mean can we really expect them to be friendly and full of cuddles when beaten close to death or deliberately poisoned? Will they ever be able to regain the ability to trust in humans and live happily in a house?
Dillinger was found in a car engine with two other kittens. Nobody knew how they had gotten there, but were relieved that nobody had switched on the engine. He was the runt of the three and was hissing and spitting with all the might that he could summon out of his little lungs.
I wasn't sure if I should have taken my chances on him at first- when he saw me he hissed and made it absolutely clear he wanted nothing to do with me, and I was disheartened. I told the rescuer that as much as I wanted to pick a kitten to save, I wanted him to pick me too. It should be a mutual agreement and affection, which evidently was not present at this meeting. The rescuer said that he would be fine and to give him time, but I was doubtful.
After I left, I couldn't get those intricately white-lined eyes out of my head, and I missed his adorable tabby stripes which were just the right amount of fluffy. I decided to take a chance with him ( the spots on his belly sealed the deal) and picked him up the next day.
He is named John Dillinger because he robs hearts and is almost as charming as Johnny Depp when he purrs (and is not freaking out at any sort of sudden movement). As much as it's challenging to have him distrust his food bowl, there are moments that I know we have a good thing going on.
So world, say hello.