And Now for Something Completely Different

having some fun

Dear Fellow Travelers,

Today I introduce you to a friend, and let her have her say. This one is just for fun, which is big part of healing.

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The Days of My Life

These days I hear them say that I have dementia. That might be true, but there are things I remember. In any case, I’ve earned it –– I’m about 90 years old, the way you count things.

The story is told (and it’s true) that I saved us all. Our mother had left us to fend for ourselves, and we were simply too young. She was fickle like that, always looking for her next adventure and not wanting to be tied down. I poked my head out first to call for help, and a small person bent down and picked me up and squeezed me tight. A group of them gathered around the chicken coop that was above our home. They peered and poked and found my brother and sister. A big person gathered the smalls and took them away, asking the small to release me.

Later, after it was quiet, the big one came back and fetched all three of us. We were carried in a cardboard box to what would be our new home. We were bathed (yuck), defleaed (relief) and best of all hand fed until our bellies were warm and round. We were given names. My brother was Moses, my sister was Lucy, and I am Scout.

The adventures of the three little kittens began. We graduated from the box to the bathroom to the girl’s room. She had a pile of soft stuffed animals that made the most wonderful litterbox. She opened her window so that we could go outside. We learned to hunt and on our most victorious day, we returned with a squirrel’s head as an offering. It was not graciously received.

Moses grew to be the gregarious orange tabby who visited all of the neighbors, and the boy was his person. Moses was a scalawag, but they loved him.

Lucy was a tiny, shy tuxedo and the girl was her person. She stayed close to home after she got locked under the neighbors’ house for two weeks. Everyone loved her because she was sweet, unless you were a bird. In which case she was a menace.

And I was the ordinary, reliable black cat. I am chatty and affectionate to all, giving a little bite to command attention. Not much bothers me, not then, not now. I’m just happy to be here. I am Scout.

I love cardboard. We were rescued in a box, after all, and our home in the garage was full of boxes, which is to say full of possibility. Boxes were our playground, our beds, our hideouts, our perches. They were our comfort. I love the dusty, papery smell of a good cardboard box, and the way it scratches my neck just so. 

Not so long ago, after Moses and Lucy were gone, I was invited to be a house cat. This is a role I took to immediately. I don’t really care if I ever go outside again.

I live on one side of the house because there is another scary black cat on the other side of the door. Sometimes they lock her up and let me explore. One time I hissed at her for good measure.

These days I am slow and bow-legged. I spend my days sleeping in a comfortable chair, keeping these old bones warm. I sing the songs of my people, sometimes without ceasing. I take great care after using the litter box to scratch every surface in sight, and then I announce that my task has been completed. It’s the little things.

I have perfected a two-syllable call that sounds uncannily like “hello.” I enjoy keeping my people on their toes.

I have developed an elaborate theory and have proven it to be true. Each morning, I get out of bed and climb into a cardboard box. From here I commence my breakfast song. This sets off a chain of events. Eventually, they come and open the door, and only then do I climb out of the box, in order to supervise my breakfast delivery. I need to see them fetch and return the food bowl. Otherwise, it didn’t happen and I won’t eat. My most recent victory has been to refuse all but chicken paté, and they finally removed the offending turkey.

I threatened death at the new year. They had a day of tears and great affection. I changed my mind and I’m still here.  I am Scout.

Scout on her 17th birthday last September

I hope you have some 4-legged friends keeping you company in your life.  Here’s to having some fun.

Thanks for being here! Share as you see fit.

Lots of love,

Maija

Song of the Week: Choosing a song for Scout was a challenge. Her own songs cannot be transcribed. I settled on Living my Best Life by Ben Rector. While the details of her days are different, this does convey her approach to life.