By Moss Geren, Writing Specialist
April 12, 2023

In my last cat post, I said I’ve had more than twenty cats and I only got two on purpose. The second cat we brought home was a feral kitten named Loki, who we found in a flowerpot.

That may not sound like an on-purpose kind of cat, but my older sister, Katie, had been considering adopting a gerbil or something for over a year. Then, we heard that a cat from the feral colony a street or two down from the house had kittens. She decided that one of them was hers.

Mom shook her head as Katie and I ran off to the neighbor’s house to collect her boy. We crept along a driveway lined with flowerpots under an archway of leaves. The garage door was partially opened– a silver kitten darted inside! We met eyes, unsure if we should open that door or come back later.

After that, the neighbor came out and gave us the greenlight for classic cat herding, saying, “Take them all if you want.” They needed homes. We didn’t have room for a whole bunch of kittens, though. Just one. All we had to do was catch him.

I struggled to lift up the garage door, but it barely moved. “I can’t get it,” I said, “use your strong arms.” So, Katie stepped in. The door trembled for a few seconds in her grasp before it jumped up and clanged on the garage ceiling.

Kittens scampered out of there en masse, and by the time I was ready to pounce, they were already scattered in the four winds.

Thankfully, there was movement in the garage. I told Katie, “I think a few are hiding in the back. I’ll chase them out and you catch ‘em.” I was rummaging and making a racket in someone else’s crowded garage. A brown tabby kitten ran out and slipped past Katie. I rummaged some more. The second and last one in there sprinted towards the garage door.

Katie grabbed the kitten, but she let go as it scratched her. “Oh, she was so cute,” she said with a sigh while the little thing disappeared down the driveway. “I wanted to get that silver one.”

We thought we were out of luck and would have to try again later. That’s when we saw Loki hiding in a flowerpot. He was a tan tabby with black stripes and spots on his flank. He was sitting really still, like he thought if he didn’t move, we wouldn’t see him.

I inched toward him, then jumped to snatch him up. Loki leapt out of the pot and disappeared into the next-door neighbor’s yard. I wove through the flowerpots and hopped over some bricks in pursuit. He was the last one, and I wasn’t giving up that easy.

“What if they come out,” Katie asked as I trespassed on someone's lawn.

“I’ll be quick”, I said, playing peek-a-boo with the kitten in some bushes. Loki ran back toward Katie and disappeared in the garage once more.

We looked at each other, holding our breath. “I got it this time,” Katie said, holding her hands out at the ready. I nodded and picked my way back through the tools and machines in the garage. I grabbed at Loki from where he hid in the back corner, but I couldn’t reach him through shovels and shelves. The kid knew all kinds of acrobatic moves. He dodged me and flew for the opening.

Katie swooped down and nabbed him. Loki bit into her hand, but she didn’t let go; she still has the scar. I rushed out of the garage and brought him to my chest. He struggled for a moment, but then he gave in.

We had caught ourselves a feral kitten. I hid his face in my arm as we walked, and he nuzzled closer despite his fear of me, trembling and breathing heavily.

After, we put Loki in the bathroom with some towels, food, water, and a container to hide under. I didn’t want him to be overwhelmed by the big space or the other animals. I felt so bad as he cowered behind the sink.

We’d never had a feral kitten before, only strays who were used to human contact. I had to google how to socialize him. He had to be a few months old given how big he was, and after a certain age it’s very difficult to domesticate a cat. I found myself telling Katie “We might have caught him too late. We might have to fix him and release him back into the colony.”

Of course, the next day he was playing with Katie and batting at some string. Very soon after, he discovered the couch and has never gone back.

When the vet checked him out, we found out we’d taken him at about 4 weeks old! He was just a very large cat. We had taken him too early because we thought he’d been with his mother longer.

Now he’s full grown and very affectionate; he’s the biggest cat we’ve ever had and he has lots of energy. He’s also the most mischievous cat we’ve had, so it fits that Katie named him Loki. He enjoys eating our plants and sitting on the floor of the shower when it’s wet.

Nowadays Loki is an indoor cat, but he has been sneaking outside with our other kitten, Sirius, to play under the house. He loves playing too rough with his brother and sitting on him while he’s trying to sleep. We’ve found out he won’t eat my orchid that’s older than him by several years, thankfully. Thin crunchy leaves are much more satisfying to him. I would like to note that he’s had some character growth because last Christmas he was scaling the pine tree in our living room, but this December he contented himself with knocking ornaments off the lower branches.