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.
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.
