My Alliance With Pickles The Scaredy Cat

My sister-in-law’s cat, Pickles, is the most nervous, frightened house pet I have ever seen.  She is afraid of everyone and everything.

Over time Pickles and I have developed a tenuous and unlikely alliance.  She will sometimes stay in a room that I enter—at a distance—and permit me to look in her direction.  I can’t look at her directly, mind you, or she will dash from the room.  But she will tolerate a sideways glance.   (…If I’m standing very still.)

Beyond that, in recent days, she has amazingly enough given me the time of day by occasionally allowing me to pet for her one second, or maybe two.  Maybe.  Note, I did say “occasionally.” 

(The petting is infrequent and brief.  Much like my haircuts are getting, these days.)

But at all times it is still obvious that Pickles is firmly convinced I will kill her the first chance I get.

I’ve tried to tell her, “Pickles, I’m not going to hurt you.”

But she gives me the look that says, “Uh huh.  Sure.  That’s what you people always say.”  Then she runs under the bed and keeps a cell phone nearby poised to dial 911 if I try anything suspicious… like, say, breathing too much.