Dear Supporters of Bacon,

I don’t consider myself an optimist, but each time I cross the parking lot to visit Bacon I hope we can continue “getting to know each other.” For months, I’d step into Karina’s office to visit him, unzip his cozy house, and stand back as he wandered around, sniffing his environment. I was usually very careful to make sure he didn’t wander too close to me.

I was always pleasantly surprised when he allowed his curiosity to overtake him, when he tiptoed over on his little cat feet, when his nose touched down on my leg or arm, and when his face almost came into contact with mine. It was as if he was finally noticing my presence and wondering, “Who are you?”

Last month, I felt as if I’d won the lottery. He wandered close and stayed close. He seemed calm. When I reached out to pet him, he purred. It’s these moments when you feel like you’ve broken through a wall.

So, I wondered…    …was that breakthrough some anomaly or would it continue? How should I approach Bacon now—with trepidation or confidence?

This last time when I arrive to visit this sweet boy, I find the office in complete disarray. None of the furniture is in its usual spot. Strange, I think. And yet, if you’ve been to Tabby’s Place lately, you can’t help but notice the construction all around you, so at first, I think—is Karina’s office under construction, too? Nevertheless, I waltz in and keeping to protocol, usher Marcia back into her house before unzipping Bacon’s.

“Hey, buddy, are you in there?”  I step away, and he leaps out. Looks around. He notices that everything is every which way. (I find out later that one of the volunteers is doing some extra cleaning and has moved things around, waiting for the floor to dry.) But Bacon notices this “new environment.”

He goes around and around, sniffing and sniffing as if he is an ace reporter and is planning to write an article on the recent changes.  “What’s this doing here? And that shouldn’t be there, it should be over here.” He looks at me once or twice as if to say, “Well?”

When I don’t respond, he goes over to consult with Marcia, who has been watching his every move. She, of course, has noticed the changes and has been equally perplexed, but she’s not saying anything.

I sit down in the middle of the floor. “No big deal,” I reassure him.

“Yeah?”   I nod. “Change is inevitable.”

That’s when the magic happens.  He comes over, but not directly, and not right away. He makes his way over by circling around me, but each time he circles, the circle gets smaller and smaller. Finally, he’s rubbing against my legs and arms as he passes. Then he’s half crawling over one of my feet, and it’s clear he’s making contact.

“Okay, I’m getting the message here.” I reach out and begin massaging the back of his neck. He squirms away at first, but he returns because he’s a cat and they love to be cuddled and petted.

Yes!  I’m hoping that finally, he’ll crawl into my lap. That doesn’t happen. But we do have a good ten minutes of petting and circling and touching. Then without saying a word or a meow he saunters back into his cozy house.

“You are the cutest thing,” I say to him as I re-zipper his house. “But I can see you’ve had enough for now.”

Sometimes when I think about writing for Bacon, I marvel at how far we’ve come. Winning the trust and affection of a cat takes time, but it is a wonderful thing when it happens.

He’s been doing well this month. He has had a few seizures, but he’s been eating well, and I think he looks happy.

Thanks, as always, for your continued generosity. We hope you are enjoying this not-too-cold weather. Bacon and I can’t wait until spring!!

Your correspondent,
Kate