You may be thinking that "Belle" is an
unusual name for a cat, very old-fashioned.
Well, there is a story behind the name.
While still on the deck with her siblings, I
was calling the light brown tabby kitten "Clarabell",
don't ask me why. Once we brought her
inside, and determined she was a she, my
sister told me that every time she heard me
say Clarabell, she thought about a cow. So
her name was shortened to "Belle" (with the
e at the end).
Belle was the last capture in our rescue
effort of 2008, but not the last cat to join
the herd that summer. She had a slightly
traumatic transition to life inside the big
house. I was able to trap her on a day I was
home alone. Rather than wait for my sister
to get home from work to assist me, I
decided to try the transfer from the little
trap cage to the big cage on my own. After
all, I had done this same transfer many
times before, but usually with backup. Belle
being a little older by now, was very
skeptical about coming inside, and did not
like the cage at all. She is also very
quick. Somehow, she managed to twist, claw,
and bite at me, and then slipped out of the
cage, into the basement, where she hid
behind the dryer. I managed to cordon off
the area, and waited for my backup to
arrive. With a little prompting from the
broom, we were able to convince Belle to
come out from behind the dryer and she ran
into the trap cage once again. Then with
Barb's assistance, we got her safely into
the big cage with her brother, Sable.
Between her basement experience, and age,
Belle has not become a "people" kitty. As
long as we do not approach her, she will
tolerate being in the same room with us, but
she is quite wary. The only times I can
really get close to her is at feeding times.
Occasionally, she becomes very interested in
watching me scoop the litter boxes, and will
smell my hand, if offered. I doubt she will
ever become affectionate, but I can hope.
|
|
|