Feral Baby Kirk was more interested in being loved-on by humans than in a chunk of raw chicken-fat trimmings nearly the size of her own head. She has since learned to throw caution to the wind and declare herself worthy of both, simultaneously if necessary. This is perhaps the fundamental transformation from feral to smug and pampered housecat. Not that we’d tell her that; she still considers @digitaldiscipline‘s house to be her feral colony’s private, climate-controlled territory in which he’s allowed to live as their human servant. (I’m not convinced she’s wrong.) (Feral cats who eat wild birds are not terribly imperilled by raw grocery-store chicken trimmings; their immune systems are much more capable of dealing with bird-borne contagions than indoor housecats’ are, and of course, they aren’t known for cooking their food. Kirk was being fed this on the suggestion of @digitaldiscipline‘s vet, who also told him what supplements to add to it to help her immune system fight off the infection.)