To trust or not to trust

I thought I was going to coax our now semi-feral cat into her crate and move her to our new house yesterday. I thought I had her trust and we could deal with the two and a half hour drive. I thought somewhat incorrectly.
As I gathered things into my truck in preparation to leave I gave lots of attention to both cats. They were content and happy despite my activities. At this point they have probably gotten used to the chaos most days. Nearly noon, I took a quick break to grab lunch.
Below my chair was a tattered paper bag from the grocery store, the latest in a series of bags. Oscar was inside the bag, as is her habit when I sit down to writer or eat. Dragon gets the seat beside me, but he was sleeping on the foot of my bed since he spent most of the previous night outside.
I was startled by the sudden clambering behind me. She had gotten her head stuck in the remaining handle of the bag, but she was standing on the floor because she had scratched or chewed through the bottom side. When the bag wouldn’t let go of her she took off down the hall kicking it and knocking it into the walls. I went to follow her but she returned at lightning speed down the hallway, jumping through the bars of the stairwell railing. This tore more than 3/4ths of the remaining bag away, but she still had enough around her to propel her into hiding. When I came back upstairs Dragon was at the top with a look that seemed to convey,”what got into her?”
Considering the lack of places I left down there for them to hide in, I couldn’t get her to come to my call for nearly an hour. When I finally did come around a corner to face her, she stayed where she was. I talked soothingly to her but kept my hands to myself. When I reached out to scratch her chin she let me, which allowed me to reach my other hand over to the bit of paper bag she still wore. After a long moment she went to jump down from her perch, leaving me holding the piece of paper. It was only a few minutes after that she came upstairs to rub my legs and get more attention. I replaced her favorite hiding place with a bag I cut the handles off of, tossed some of her toys into it and went back to packing the truck. She wasn’t ready to trust the bag; nor was she ready to play with me and get into the crate.
She was not in danger; the bag wouldn’t have held her weight had she gotten caught on anything. If you have had a paper bag handle come unglued before you make it to your car, you know what I mean. Her accepting my scratching her chin told me she does trust me despite her predicament, but she still wants that trust on her terms only.
Leaving the two cats for two days will, hopefully, encourage her to get into the crate with some ease. Dragon sits facing backward beside me with a towel over him when I take him in the car. He is an easy traveler, but I know he hates it. He will happily leave the house with me despite that. I hope Oscar can see this and that it helps her to accept the change she doesn’t understand.
As you can imaging, taking a picture of this wasn’t going to happen, although I wish I could have managed it. Her silver fur with the brown paper looked like she was a kid in a cape. To think that just a couple of months ago her whole body would have fit through the handle made me realize how much she has grown in the months we have had her inside.

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