coming out of my shell

coming out of my shell

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Pooka


Prior to retirement we lived out in the country and had a cat door so our cats could come and go as they pleased.  We have co-existed with and loved many cats over the years.  Our all-time favorite was named Pooka.  We got her from a friend who had a farm where Pooka was born to be a barn cat.  She was quite young when we took her in; however, unlike all the other cats we have had before and since, she never ceased being feral.  As a result, few friends or family ever saw her.  She would quickly skedaddle outside when strangers arrived, leaving the cat door flapping in her wake.

She was a bit uncanny in the way feral animals are.  She clearly went her own way and had her own thoughts.  She was also a mighty hunter who loved roaming the wetlands near our land and often brought “presents” home to us.  This was especially true in the spring, which we came to refer to as the "Killing Season."


One spring morning during the Pooka years I got up for work and as I walked into the living room a garter snake slithered by in front of me and went under the couch.  I don't know about you, but this is not something I want to deal with at 7:15 a.m. or ever, for that matter.  Garter snakes are perfectly harmless, but there is still that wild, uncanny aspect to them; the same as mice.  Ick.  I was NEVER the kind of kid who picked up snakes by their tails and tossed them about.  Sorry, but in our house that is a job for Super T.  He was still asleep that morning and did not need to leave for work until long after I was gone.  I thought I would just go to work and then call and tell him it was there.  Right?

I reached to pull my coat off the coat rack and a chipmunk jumped out of my coat sleeve, dropped to the floor, and also ran under the couch.  I jumped back, breathing heavy.  Then I put on my coat and hightailed it out of there. 

The snake and chipmunk were never seen again.  My husband swears he never saw them.


Pooka


10 comments:

  1. What a sweet and pretty kitty! She reallllly must have loved you to bring you such fantastic gifts - but I would have been running too!

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  2. I love good cats, and had many. The current fellow was a feral, and is unlike any cat I've every had the pleasure of knowing. Or not, as in the case of Willie and Miss Kitty. Pooka looks black and white and long hair, like my current guy. So sorry she's gone.
    PS-That wily chipmunk couldn't have been too pleased with you. I hope it found the cat flap in time.

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    1. My fear is that Pooka found them both and ate them before Tom woke up that morning. Sigh.

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  3. What a beautiful girl, and I love her name! I suspect your Pooka was quite a comfort when she disposed of your problems for you. Our cat, Connelly, is quite the mass murderer and regularly brings me presents...

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    1. They really are cold blooded killers! However, they are also soft and furry and there's that.

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  4. This story is a good reason to only have indoor cats. I rather they just hunt the just flies that that sneak inside.

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  5. I sincerely wish that our dog, Socks had hunting instincts. He is a scottie, so SHOULD be a good mouse hunter, but he SUCKS at it. The one time a mouse ran across our kitchen floor, I don't know who was more terrified, me or him. We both screamed.

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So, whadayathink?