The Story of Jantsy:

Have you ever seen a cat that you thought was beautiful, but hid from everyone and wouldn't let you get near? A cat so frightened that every noise makes her jump, every person who comes near is reason to hide, and every hand that reaches out to pet her is treated like a dangerous object to be avoided at all costs?

Jantsy was that kind of cat. When Maria and I saw her picture on the Siamese Rescue website, we fell in love with that cute furry face. But when we came to the rescue shelter to see her, we found her huddled under a bed with her only friend, a feral cat named Ellie. We peeked under the bed, but all we saw were a pair of frightened eyes. Our offer of a friendly hand for them to sniff, and possibly a gentle pat on the head, only resulted in the two backing further away. The two spent nearly all their time hiding under the bed, only daring to timidly venture out late at night when the humans had gone to sleep, when the loud scary noises were at a minimum, when they could quietly explore the unfamiliar surroundings unseen, unnoticed.

Jantsy ponders what to do next after polishing off a plate-full of food.

I was a little skeptical about bringing home a cat that seemed so unwilling to make friends with us -- the cats I have always seen at pet stores and animal shelters always seemed to thrive on attention, sometimes throwing themselves at the cage in a desperate attempt to get closer to you, longing for attention. And yet, here was a cat that seemed totally uninterested in having anything to do with us. My wife, however, was undeterred. Her heart was set on this cat, and nothing was going to stop her. The Director of the Rescue Shelter, Siri Wine, seemed a little surprised that we would still be interested in a cat that did nothing but hide when there were so many other friendlier cats around, but nevertheless attempted to extract Jantsy from under the bed for us. No easy task! Jantsy fought furiously, and Siri emerged, her hands bleeding from the scratches, with the little dynamo wrapped up in a towel to prevent further damage.

Jantsy claims the bed as her own.

Now, some cats are just born crabby, and will swipe at you just to let you know who's boss. Some have been so abused that they lash out at everyone. The look in Jantsy's eyes was not one of anger or hatred or arrogance or disdain. It was a look of pure terror...but wait, there was something else...was that a look of longing buried deep inside? I held Jantsy in my arms, still tightly wrapped in a towel so only her head was visible, and felt her small body shivering in fright. I gently stroked her head and eventually her shaking stopped and was replaced by an almost inaudible rumbling...was that a purr? Okay, now I was hooked. I had to have her. We signed the adoption papers that day and brought Jantsy home with us, home to a new beginning and an opportunity to see if we could bring those long-buried desires to the surface.

Of course, this wasn't going to be easy. Jantsy was now relocating to a completely new environment, full of all new smells and sights and scary humans and loud noises! We knew that if we let her loose in the house she would race off to find a hiding spot, and it might be days before we found her again. We thought about putting her in the bedroom with the doors closed, but we didn't want her hiding under the bed all the time, because it might take weeks, maybe even months, to coax her out. We decided instead to put her in the spare bathroom, where she wouldn't have anywhere to hide. We placed a blanket in the bathroom for her comfort, and set up a litter box, food dish and water for her. She hid, of course, in the only place she could find, behind the toilet bowl basin, but at least we could reach her.

Jantsy claims the upper perch on the cat tree while Abigale-Clare peeks out from below. Also see Abigale-Clare's story.

Maria and I spent hours and hours at a time in the bathroom, lying on the floor with one hand stretched out to scratch Jantsy's cute fuzzy little head, who remained hiding behind the basin. She would shy away from our hands at first, but once she realized we were going to do nothing more than pet her head, she allowed herself to relax -- slightly. We found that we had to lie down at first, because the moment we stood up, or even sat up, she would panic. We had to talk in very low, soothing voices, because any loud noises would also send her scurrying away in terror. After an hour or so of scratching her head, Jantsy made a few tentative steps toward us, and then backed off again, but at least it was progress, no matter how minute. Each time we left the bathroom and came back in, it was as if we were starting from square one all over again, because we would find Jantsy cowering in fear once again, desperately backing away from us and our outstretched hands. We took to taking turns sleeping in the bathroom overnight so that she could get used to us being around. After a few days, Jantsy was brave enough to slowly...ever so slowly...work her away over to next to us, and would even let us pick her up and set her on our laps for a brief period of time, and her purrs grew louder than a motorcycle! However, the moment we stood up or even sat upright, she would bolt back behind the toilet basin, and we would have to gently coax her out all over again.

What a view! Why bother with lower levels of the cat tree when you can be Queen of the Hill.

In time, it took us less and less time to coax her out, and we exulted in every tiny step of progress. Jantsy was still scared, but you could see that she was absolutely starved for affection. Once we got her next to us, she would purr like there was no tomorrow. After a few days, she started jumping in our laps on our own, and even bestowed us with the greatest term of endearment that a meezer can give: the face smooshie, rubbing her nose and both cheeks against our faces. She seemed so blissfully happy to be with us, and both amazed and ever so grateful to be receiving this kind of attention.

...although sometimes you have to get down to ground level to check things out.

After a few weeks, we were able to let her out of the bathroom and integrate her to the rest of the house, moving her to the bedroom at first (boy was she ecstatic at being able to sleep in the same bed as us!) and eventually full run of the house. Sure it was a lot of effort, and I don't know how many people would be willing to sleep in the bathroom with their new cat, but it was certainly worth it. Now when I come home I find Jantsy standing on her hind legs begging me to pick her up so that she can curl under my chin and purr and purr and purr. Every morning when the alarm goes off she rushes over, jumps on my chest, and flops on her side for belly rubs, purring loudly. We have a lot of cats, but Jantsy is by far the most affectionate of them all and my personal favorite, perhaps because of the extra effort it took to bring out her true personality. The two of us have bonded so strongly that anytime she is an stressful situation (like a vet visit) she immediately looks to me, buries her head in my arms and then calms down immediately. What a difference from the cat we first saw hiding under the bed at the Shelter! But all cats, just like humans, crave affection and attention; it just takes a little perseverance and understanding to bring that out. And for that perseverance, you will be rewarded richly by an adoring cat.

Jantsy lies on my chest, purring happily. Each morning when the alarm clocks goes off she curls up on my chest for attention. Look at that look of utter contentment! Oooh! That's the spot!

Editors Note: We regret that Jantsy "crossed the bridge" over the winter of 2005 at the still young age of 7 due to what appeared to be an undetectable heart condition.
Go here to view the Memorial Page.

Comments? Write to kelly@kswmyy.com