Reagan came with other cats named after presidents. She was too mean to be adopted by anyone so she lives here but is not officially our cat. She belongs to a rescue.
Reagan decided to join us inside today. That’s a rare event other than the morning feeding. She was overdue for some flea meds. That long fur is not a good match in this South Carolina humidity or for fleas. But she is spicy so that takes some work We blocked off the cat door, closed other doors and gave her limited places to be.
She hid under a dresser and I was able to pull her out and give her some flea meds. This is the first time I have touched her in months and months. It went better than expected. Only the tiniest amount of blood.
What is surprising to me. Is that she’s still in the house. I thought she would have ran out the moment we opened that cat door.
Sounds like a combination of slowly built trust and appreciation of AC.
She looks like a sweet girl even if she’s not the cuddliest. I have a short hair like her except she’s an indoor-only. They have their own ways of telling you they love you; this may be hers.
“I’m still here and haven’t murdered you”
^ love