Did I lose my kitten's trust? I've pampered it with the finest: chicken breasts, pork, shrimp, all cooked to perfection, and the best medicine too. Raising a cat is exhausting, really, you just never know what's on their little minds. But what if I did lose its trust? I mean, I spoil it with the best, right? Here's the story...

Before the Incident	After the Incident
Everyday was a game of fetch, chasing after the sunbeams, and pouncing on the tiniest of toys. It was like having a tiny, energetic ball of joy in the house.	Now? Well, now it's like a ghost. It scampers away at the sight of me, hiding under the bed, not even daring to peek out when I call.
My Actions	Its Response
I was just trying to teach it a lesson, a gentle tap on the nose to show it who's boss.	But now, it's like it's a different creature, a cat that's wary, a cat that's wary of me.

You see, when a cat's head is hit, it's not just a tap on the nose. It can lead to cuts, internal bleeding, even nerve damage. The fear it feels is palpable, a terror that makes it run, hide, and not come out, not even for its favorite treats.

Cats are creatures of habit, and when their routine is disrupted, they act out. My kitten, it's been acting out. It's been hissing, scratching, even vomiting. It's like it's trying to tell me something, but I can't understand its language.

Some say, "Don't hit, teach," but what do you do when all the usual tricks fail? I've tried everything, from spraying water to shouting, but nothing seems to work. It's like the cat has its own stubborn streak, a streak that's been sharpened by my "correction."

And then there's the talk of trust. Did I lose its trust? Or did I lose something else? Because when I call out to it, it doesn't come. It doesn't eat. It's like it's living in a different world, a world where I'm not part of its life.

Cats are smart, they have short-term memories, especially for negative experiences. Pain, fear, hunger—it all sticks in their minds. When they face those situations again, they react instinctively, defending themselves. And if they feel wronged, they might just take out their anger on your prized possessions, your clothes, your shoes.

But here's the thing, a cat's intelligence is often compared to a three-year-old's. So, if you were to hit a three-year-old, they'd be upset, but they'd bounce back. They don't hold grudges. So, why should a cat?

I remember my little Dolun, he was a handful. He'd tear through the house, knocking over everything in his path. Sometimes, I'd lose it and give him a little tap on the rear. He'd sulk, but he'd come running when I pulled out the can of his favorite treats. But now, he's acting different. He's distant, he's wary.

And if I hit my cat too often, it might just turn into a cat that's angry, a cat that's untrusting. It might resist, scratch, even bite. Because it's lost its trust in me.

But here's the catch, cats don't have the capacity to think about revenge or to plan it. The scratching, the hiding, the urinating outside the litter box—it's all a sign of anxiety, not a sign of revenge. Cats are more likely to use their territory behavior to control us, like scratching to defend, or marking with urine. But if they're hit or hurt, they might become defensive and distance themselves.

So, did I lose my kitten's trust? Or did I just make it wary? Time will tell. But one thing's for sure, I need to show it that I'm not the enemy. I need to earn back its trust, one gentle stroke at a time.

And you know what? I'm ready to give it my all. Because at the end of the day, it's not just a cat. It's a little bundle of joy, a creature that has its own little heart, and I want to be the one who can mend it, who can make it feel safe, and loved, again.

So, if you're in a similar situation, take heart. It's not about winning a battle, it's about rebuilding a bond. It's about showing that love can always find a way, even when it's been tested by a little tap on the nose.

Until then, I'll be here, patient, kind, and more than anything, loving. Because that's what it's all about, right? Love, and trust, and the unbreakable bond between a human and their furry friend.

With love and hope, Your Furry Friend's Advocate