She wants to be good, she just doesn’t know how. All the love in the world can’t erase those fierce years living on the street, scrounging for food and shelter. Any human contact was some harsh voice telling her she wasn’t welcome or worse, the pain of a hand on her tired and weak body.
Even when she found a safe Forever Home, she didn’t know how to accept a loving caress. Bared teeth and claws were her survival reaction, biting the hand that feeds her.
A silent tête-à-tête, barely touching foreheads, her way of saying, “I’m sorry.”