Smokey appears cured of face-biting since the incidents in the Face
Biter thread, but the whole thing reminds me of this heartbreaking
memory:

Smokey, a former feral, was taken off CFB Trenton one evening by myself
and brought to the apartment that DP and I shared in a neighbouring
town.  We didn't expect Smokey to have much appetite that night, what
with the capture, the new surroundings, the strange people, the car
trip, etc.

But the next day, we were cooking eggs and bacon for some guests and
Smokey started to shriek and cry at the garbage pail, pawing it,
wanting to get in to lick the bacon grease and eggshells.  There were
full bowls of cat food in the kitchen, but he wasn't eating.  I put him
in front of them, but he was back crying at the trash, so I tried
again...and he looked up at me, all nervous, quivering...

...he could not believe the food was for him.  He was trying to eat
garbage because he didn't think he was allowed to eat the cat food.

So I stroked him, offering him food on my hand and he very nervously
started to nibble...then to wolf the food for fear I might change my
mind.

He did something similar with the couch...he'd sit at the foot of it
and meow softly, looking up at us, checking to make sure it was okay if
he came up to join us.  (We were lifting him up and putting him on the
bed and the couch a lot that first week).

He liked it inside but he seemed always afraid that he would do
something that would bring down our wrath on him, or get him thrown out
the door or something.

I'm actually thankful he now considers breakfast a right.

--Fil