Atticus is our third and largest cat. He is a massive seal point ragdoll (22 lbs or almost 10 kilograms) and incredibly gentle for his size. You know what, here let me get a picture for you.
But Atticus wasn’t always this fluffy or friendly. When we first got him he had several very concerning health issues and was terrified of everything.
The Pickup
His previous owners had been looking to rehome him and my husband heard about it through a family friend. We were sent pictures of a very fluffy and happy looking cat. Atticus was said to be good with both children and dogs, as well as being the grandson of our two current cats. My husband and I figured he would be a good fit and agreed to take him.
When we arrived at the house to pick up atticus he was very very different from the pictures we had received. He was missing the mane around his neck and starting from his lower back to halfway down his tail his fur was short and sparse, as if he had been shaved. Instead of looking like a ragdoll he looked like a weird siamese. This was concerning but he seemed alert and healthy so we packed him into our crate and away we went. The previous owner sent some cat food with us but atticus had no carrier of his own nor any toys which was another red flag.
Enter the Couch
Once we got home and released atticus from the crate he immediately dove under the couch and refused to get out. This isn’t that unusual for a cat. when they are brought to a new unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people they seek a defensible position. We partitioned off our other cats from him to the best of our ability so he could adjust more easily.
For several days Atticus would come out to eat, drink, and use the litter box but that was it. This behavior wasn’t normal for a cat who had come from a stable family. I decided I needed to perform a test. I slowly slid my arm under the couch and moved it to within two feet of him. He lashed out at my hand and retreated farther under the couch. Sporting a fresh set of claw gauges I sadly had to conclude he wasn’t just spooked about being moved to a new place he was terrified of us.
Recovery Steps
Atticus could have learned that we were safe people on his own but it would take months and in the meantime he would be trapped under that couch. I decided that wasn’t going to work and so began the quest to calm the floof. Every morning when I woke up I would slid my arm under the couch and leave it within two feet of him while talking softly. The first few sessions he’d tear into my hand every time. A smarter person would have put on a leather glove. By the fifth day he had stopped attacking my hand. Three days later I was able to move my hand to within a few inches of him. Halfway through the next week he nuzzled my hand for the first time.
The hardest part was over, Atticus trusted me enough to let me to touch him. Morning pets under the couch become routine. Every day now I could move my hand a little closer to the edge of the couch and he would follow it for pets. The morning Atticus’s little face poked out from under the couch is one of my most memorable victories. When he fully emerged from the couch when called for pets I knew we could make this work.