When I first met Jinx I had two thick beds in one hand and meds in the other. Despite his attitude, for some reason I wanted to get my hands on this boy with the “make my day” defiant stare.

Perhaps I just love bad boys. Or perhaps, he was not a bad boy after all, but a hero.

Jinx, one of the first cats to enter our hospital in Pahrump, was the last kitty to leave. Half of his handsome nose was ravaged by the desert sun and removed due to skin cancer. (Please see Jinx, the most special of our special cats for a description of him in his bad boy days.)

Unquestionably he had a rough childhood which may have contributed to his fear of people and other cats. I used to think that Jinx had a built in growl that accompanied his breathing. I found out differently when he was left behind with the Baker’s Dozen, for in-school boot camp training.

Tammy Rolf, adoption coordinator, selected the most challenging cats to stay behind in Pahrump, while the other kitties headed for the sanctuary in Kanab.

When I saw Jinx, I knew he had to be in my class. What I experienced was an eye opener. Some of the “toughest” cats were the first to “break” and Jinx was one of them.

Using a thick bed for protection, I reached in with a feather duster. If the duster had been purchased by someone other than a volunteer, it would have been used to clean wooden blinds.

Jinx gave me the “touch me and your dead” stare along with a rather nasty hiss before I started petting him with the wand. The growling continued and he added a couple more good hisses, but did not move.



After about ten minutes, I began moving my hand down into the feathers. Whap! He smacked my hand hard. I pulled back, expecting a stub, but oddly had only one fine scratch. That afternoon, I worked with him again, and again after a positive petting session with the wand, I began moving my hand down into the feathers. Jinx turned his head and gave me the “look” but did not strike. “Good boy,” I praised and backed off.

By the fourth session, I had eliminated the “just in case” protection bed and had moved my hand down into the feathers to the end of the wand. Jinx could not look at me during these first sessions and other than an occasional hiss, he was now only growl-breathing.

I moved my hand onto his back and his head whipped around. I continued to pet with the brush and my hand. Jinx knew what was happening but slowly turned his head to look away. With even strokes, and holding my breath I removed the feather wand from the cage. I was petting Jinx from his neck to his tail when he suddenly stopped growling!

I was so surprised and elated that I didn’t grasp the fact that I was “hooked” or that there were tears of joy running down my face. I continued to pet Jinx, watching his eyes close and his head lower and relax. It wasn’t until my arm ached that the petting session was over.

Today, Jinx is residing in Tomato’s room in Benton’s house. He spends most of his day in a cubical or by a sunny window. Still shy around other cats, he has learned to tolerate living with them, though will not hesitate to give a warning hiss or swat if they move into his personal space.

Jinx was never a bad boy; he was just dealt a bad hand. If you see him at Benton’s house, gently scratch behind his ears and feel his head press into your hand. Jinx has learned to accept pets from everyone, and despite all he has been through, he has persevered and become our hero.

Story by Shelley Thayer
Photos by Sarah Ause

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