Tailless Cats and Squirrels

Cats and Squirrels – Lessons Learned the Hard Way

This little story is about a cat we call Tinker and how she came to share Karen's and my life as the result of a remarkable bond.

I've often said that God gave us children to teach us all the things that we, as humans, so desperately need to know, but so adamantly resist learning. Today, it seems He also provided us with animals for, among other things, the same purpose. That little Truth came to us in the form of a furry little Tinker.

Tinker is a black and white, mostly white, tailless cat. She is really a Cymric (Manx Longhair). We've had her now, actually she's had us, for ten years. In the meantime she's grown fat and lazy, but she wasn't always that way. She is extremely smart and very intelligent. Once she realized we didn't want her crawling around on top of things and wanted her to stay in our yard, she dutifully complied. Amazing!

Before Tinker we had Chevelle. She was a little wiry long-haired little cat we'd had for sixteen years that traveled everywhere with us. She had survived mean cats, dogs, coyotes, big cities, the desert and chain-link fences. She was as comfortable indoors as well as outdoors. One evening she crawled into her special bed and curled up like normal and that's how we founder the next morning. We wrapped her in her blanket and I buried her in a special place in the woods. One sunny afternoon, about six weeks later, Karen and I were outside working in our yard when, from that same wooded place came this cute, friendly black and white, tailless cat. She, with very little coaxing took right up with Karen and even let me pet her. As long as I had known Karen she had wanted a Manx cat. She looked and felt like she was in good health, she had a scar on her tummy where she'd been “fixed” and we wondered if she was a lost or belonged to someone nearby. We were sure such a nice cat had to belong to someone in the park or nearby. We decided to check with the neighbors, local bulletin boards, Humane Society (County Pound), and veterinarians. Nothing. So, after several weeks, we started feeding her and inviting her to come into our house.

We learned later from a neighbor that she had been in the neighborhood for a month and a half to a couple of months. Many had tried to take up with her, offering her food and water, but they noticed that she spent most of her time, when not hunting, at or near our place – they all agreed, she had chosen us – actually she had chosen Karen. She had finally gotten something much more than a Manx cat.

As sometimes common with tailless cats she had a loose bowel problem. Partly because of her diet from living off the land. The Vet said with proper diet, the problem might clear up. Well, it didn't, right away anyway. So, she got fed her fancy diet outside and given a special bed for the night. She was always there waiting for us in the morning ready to come in. Some months later we noticed that with the new diet she was off her foraging diet and the loose bowel problem was gone. Since winter was coming she began to eat and stay in the house; going and coming, in and out, as she felt like.

Over the past two or three years we had occasionally noticed a pair of tree squirrels making themselves rather obnoxious, usually barking at stray dogs, or whatever else wandering through that annoyed their possessive nature. They usually did their griping from high in the trees, rarely ever coming down very close to the ground. They were fearless little critters, but their feet just wouldn't stand. To hear them talk, they laid claim to the whole neighborhood. They merely tolerated us humans, but that particular tailless cat was something else. No matter what, they wanted that cat gone.

What cat, everyone wanted to know? That tailless cat was the most lovable, friendly and peaceful cat in the neighborhood. It never got into fights with any of the other cats. In fact, you hardly knew it was around. Not only that, but none of the cats really posed any threat to the squirrels, since they mainly staid high up in the trees way out of the cat's reach. When it came to that tailless cat, that didn't seem to deter the squirrels. They came right over where it was and raised such hell in the community everyone was looking to see what was the problem causing all the trouble. Even the dogs got concerned. There was such a constant dither that the residents finally complained to the Park owner. He said the problem was all the noise from the screaming squirrels and they are protected – nothing he could do. He wondered what had changed in the neighborhood to cause such a dither. All the cats and the occasional dog allowed to run in the Park never caused this much acrimony. Even so, he told all the residents, “Keep your dogs on a leash.” Of course there was a logical reason for the squirrels paranoia, that black and white cat looked an awful lot like their known enemy the bobcat known to frequent the local area.

Even so, the squirrels continued their raucous screaming and hollering to the top of their lungs, all the time pointing at that terrible cat laying peacefully in the sun bothering no one, but them. The cat wasn't paying any attention to the squirrels, at least that's what it looked like. She was usually facing away with her eyes closed, sleeping peacefully enjoying the fresh air and warm sun. In the meantime, the squirrels, one in particular, were getting bolder and bolder – coming down closer and closer to the cat.

I remember making the comment one morning as we watched one particular squirrel (the male) coming down the tree closer to the cat than ever before, “as fast as those squirrels are, not much chance of that cat catching one of them.” But life has it's ways and sometimes it doesn't go to the bold, the brave and the arrogant stupid.

One morning we heard the same raucous, derisive scolding taunts begin, the female egging on the male, getting louder and more agitated as one squirrel got closer than anytime before. All of a sudden, faster than a blink of an eye, Tinker was on the move – from a sleeping mound of fur to a streak of lightening! In that instant, the arrogant, fearless squirrel's taunting chatter and derisive screams became a torrent of fear. At the last moment when the squirrel knew it was caught, it's screams of fear turned to one last courageous growl that choked in it's throat, but to no avail, it was all over in that instant. One chomp!

Down the tree came Tinker with the squirrel dangling from her mouth, right over to Karen who had rushed outside in hopes of saving the squirrel's life, proudly dropping it at her feet with a couple of slaps with her paw to see if it moved. As Karen picked it up to see if it was hurt, Tinker, with loud purrs of satisfaction, gave Karen's legs a good rub.

Needless to say, there was no saving the squirrel. One chomp to it's head is all it took to do the trick.

So, what's the lesson learned? I don't know about the female squirrel, they usually mate for life. She bitched and griped around there for a couple of weeks or so scolding the cat and calling for her mate, then one day she was just gone – to the gratitude of everyone else left behind. Peace and quiet at last.

Tinker? Well, she took it all in stride, just like it was meant to be – and promptly forgot about the whole incident.

She may have forgotten, but we certainly have not.