I Don't Like You, Too

Some Creatures Don't Want to Be Saved

"You have to be patient and wait. Let it get used to your presence first. Then it'll come to you."

My sister Tsutako crouched next to me and peered at the kitty huddled under our porch.

"But it's hungry and dirty. It needs help now," I insisted.

"But it's afraid. You have to earn its trust," she replied.

I think I was around 10 years old when I found that cat underneath our house. Judging by its size, it was still a kitten, and judging by its dirty, matted fur and nasty hissing, it hadn't known anything but hardship in its short life. That made me want to save it all the more.

I started to crawl toward the cat. Tsutako grabbed me by the kimono.

"Did you not hear me, Giyuu? Be patient. It's feral."

"What does that mean?"

"That means it's wild. It's not used to people."

"Can we tame it?"

"Maybe. But there are some steps we'll have to take to make it friendly."

"What steps?"

"Wait here," Tsutako said and went inside the house.

She came back out with a few slices of raw fish on a small plate. She placed the plate on the ground and used a long stick to push the plate closer to the kitten. The kitten hissed at the plate at first, but as soon as it realized it was food, it gobbled it up.

"It's eating!" I exclaimed.

"The first step is to give it food every day," Tsutako explained. "You earn its trust by giving it something it needs and wants."

"Then what do you have to do?"

"Wait for it to come to you. If you're too pushy, you might scare it."

"How long will that take?"

She shrugged. "As long as it takes."

Her answer made no sense to my impatient child mind. I wanted to help this cat, to be its friend. Why did I have to wait? But I did what she told me to do. I waited, and I watched. And the longer I waited and the longer I watched, the clearer it became to me: the kitty was watching me, too. It knew when I would come to feed it and would be there waiting for me. It meowed as soon as it saw me. It wouldn't leave until I left. It would sit close enough for me to pet it. But anytime I reached my hand toward it, it would hiss and scratch at me.

This went on for days, maybe even weeks. It felt like forever. And still that silly cat wouldn't let me touch it. I was afraid it never would. What was it going to take to get it to trust me? To like me? There were so many times when I wanted to give up. Tsutako even suggested that maybe I should.

"Some creatures don't want to be saved," she said. "You might have to give up on it."

"I don't wanna," I said, lying on the ground, my hand outstretched to the cat. It licked itself, seemingly oblivious to my gesture.

"You're both so stubborn. This may end up being a contest of wills."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"It means, my sweet brother, that whether he comes around or not will depend on which is stronger – your love or its fear."

"Doesn't love always win?"

She tousled my hair. "Let's go inside. Dinner's ready."

It wasn't until years later that I realized Tsutako never gave me an answer. And it would be many years more before I would get one.