her shield some day, but it will have to be on her terms.

She was, technically, not born as a feral. But, she was born into the dysfunctional human family of a co-worker of mine that operated as every one for themselves. Her mother's human used to "play" very roughly with Ember instead of holding her to socialize her. Ember was attacked inside their home by an older half sibling when she was only 6 weeks old. The family dog rescued her.

When I first got Ember home, she hissed and bit when I tried to pet her. It took a month before she trusted that being touched could be a good thing. She has come a long way since then. But she seems to have reached her limit of trust and relaxation. She sets boundaries that she can deal with while at the same time craving the level of affection that she can handle.

Her early life seems to have imprinted on her an instinctual resistance to being confined and unable to escape if necessary. She is always hyper alert to sounds and movement, even while getting petted and kissed by me.

But one night a few weeks ago was very touching. Ember had curled up on my bed and fallen asleep there, apparently waiting for me. But I fell asleep on the couch watching a movie. Around 3 am, I woke up to anguished, frightened meows. (Ember is usually very non vocal.) I called out her name and she rushed onto the couch, smothering me with face rubs and licks. She actually snuggled very close up to me for a few moments, until she calmed down and started purring. Then she was back to her usual head burying from a safe distance.

I think that when she woke up on the bed alone and didn't know where I was, she panicked. Hearing my voice and feeling my presence reassured her. Despite her self-imposed boundaries, she has bonded with me.

Each cat would only tolerate affection on their terms. Some were very affectionate, constantly requesting pets, sitting in my lap and sleeping with me on the bed. One of my male cats, Obie, would sit on the back of the couch behind me, and rest his head on my shoulder. If I tried to move him onto my lap he would immediately jump down and run away. After a while he'd circle back and get up on the back of the couch and rest his head on my shoulder. He followed me everywhere in the house, staying wherever I was, but never wanted to be held. He loved it when I sang to him, and would often meow back. I "interviewed" Obie once for a lesson for my classroom. The kids at my school never tired of listening to his "interview". I learned that each cat had their own "love" language. Slow blinks were returned almost every time once trust had been established. Most cats also seem to like to rub their face against you. Never forced, just sitting close, but letting our cats make contact in their time. A vet told me once to avoid petting the spine itself, often too sensitive for them. Most of my cats loved petting, but one, Seb, would always bite if you rubbed his back. We later discovered he had back problems, (we were so glad the vet told us about the spinal sensitivity,) so our scritches and loves were limited to his favorite areas--facial cheeks, chin, one finger stroking the bridge of his nose, and between his ears. I guess what I trying to say is every cat, like every human, has their own, unique way of expressing affection. How lovely for Ember that she has someone willing to figure out what makes her happy! I have also found the grooming cats is a lovely way of getting close. I always bought soft, human baby brushes. I let the cat sniff the brush, bite it, and rub their scent on it--then brush the facial cheeks only at first. Doing this daily, the cat allowed more and more areas to be touched by the brush, even if they wouldn't let us touch them any other way. Thank you for taking such loving care of Ember. You're not doing anything wrong if she rejects certain things--you are giving her the freedom to love you in her own way.

She is so firm about setting limits that it's more like self defense and survival for me to not break her rules.

Besides her early kittenhood trauma, Ember is 1/4 Egyptian Mau and has several Mau behavior traits. Maus don't like being physically handled and require very early socialization with humans to accept it, which Ember did not get from her mother's human family. Maus are friendly and affectionate, but have a very strong feline sense of their own dignity and right to assert it. So, that innate trait was emphasized by the neglect and trauma of her early weeks.

Ember has one Mau trait that is exclusive to them and very cute, IMO. When she is really excited about anticipating something, her tail goes straight up and vibrates from rump to tip. It's as if the happiness is so great that it has to have an outlet.

I've been cat mom to 5 cats, sequentially, not all at once. The one before Ember was so touchy-feely in his affection that I really had to adjust to Ember's different personality.

Initially, any picking up was fought. He escapes out to an enclosed back porch sometimes, where it's cluttered, can be dangerously hot or cold and is generally uncomfortable and unsafe. We try to block him, but aren't always successful. (We think he thinks that's where we keep the mice.). Initially, we had to leave him out there so the dog didn't join him. Eventually he'd get panicked enough to escape back inside when we opened the door; a thing he'd only do if we opened the door in such a way that he couldn't see us. It was as if he was sure we'd hurt him. Now, I go out and call him and he creeps to me, calling for me to pick him up and carry him inside, away from the scary place. Of course, he never learns to stop doing this.

He used to have trouble with affection, too. All contact led to a fight. Now, he still doesn't want us to initiate it and he won't jump up on his own. Instead, he stands or sits and talks to me - anything from a pitiable mew to a demanding yell. I then have to ask him up by pantomime, holding my hands out and moving my fingers as if scratching both cheeks. Then, and only then, will he jump up. I can settle him on my chest or lap, as long as I'm not holding him there. Petting and purring ensue for a little while until he decides to go sleep between my knees, protected but not confined. Every morning and most evenings.

He's still too scared to relinquish control. But the rules keep changing for the better.