Warning, He Bites!

By Shawn Marie Mann

When a cat chooses to be friendly, it's a big deal, because a cat is picky.

~Mike Deupree

I entered the cat section of the shelter, looking at the pairs of eyes peering back at me, observing all the ears turning as my footsteps echoed down the hall. I had come for Homer, a smallish black cat with a gentle disposition, but then I was told that he would not like our new puppy. So I had to leave Homer and see if there was another cat that wanted to come home with me.

Midway down the hall I was drawn to a cage with a large message written in red marker on the information card: "Warning, He Bites!" The slim, buff-colored cat was asleep in the back of the cage, but as I peered inside he opened an eye and smiled — sort of — showing two tiny white fangs.

A young cat, less than a year old, he swiftly got up and came to the front of his cage. Loud purring spilled out through the bars as he nuzzled the metal grid. I wanted to touch his long, soft fur but I remembered the sign and hesitated. I had always had a way with cats, even strange ones, and had never been bitten or clawed, but then again I had never encountered a cat with a warning label before.

He turned around and bent his head against the cage. I had a clear path to give him a scratch behind his ear, which most cats enjoyed. He continued purring as I carefully stuck my index finger between the bars and touched the soft fur behind his ear. Then he froze. The purring stopped.

I didn't move my finger for fear he'd move faster than I could. I waited to see what he would do. One paw was lifting slowly as if to hold my arm in place — I assumed so he could give me a good bite. Then the paw halted and a few seconds of purring began. But then it stopped. Bravely, I gave his ear another scratch. The paw moved again and I saw a fang. I braced myself for the stinging pain of a bite but then the purring began again.

For half an hour I stood at his cage letting him get used to me petting him. In the end he did not bite me, much to the shelter manager's surprise. She had watched the whole thing and exclaimed that I must for sure be his special person because no one else had been able to touch him without being nipped.

Despite his warning label, I took this wonderful cat home and for seventeen years he stood by my side — biting when necessary, but purring much, much more often. If I had listened to that warning and passed him by I'd never have known one of the best friends of my life.

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