The Pumpkin and the Spook
Spook and Punkie were feeling neglected, the step children of the family, as it were. Of course, part of the problem is that Rascal had to go to the window and brag, brag, brag about having his own blog, yeah, right! So, a bit of their history, a picture or two and we shall see if they are placated. By the way, Rascal is sitting on the back of the chair watching every word go up on the screen.
Spook was just a baby when they arrived here on the tail end of Hurricane Isabelle, September 2003. I assumed (always a mistake) Punk was his mother as Punkie washed and took care of the little guy. Spook was probably a couple months old. Still small enough that we didn’t know if he was a boy or girl, since we could not touch him. He ran at the least little sound, was scared of humans, ran if you even so much as made eye contact with him. Everything spooked him. I assumed (did it again) they would leave after things quieted down, ya know, maybe they got left out in the storm and simply found shelter here, temporarily lost their bearings, whatever, but I was sure they would leave after a week or so. So I fed them. Well, hey! I felt sorry for them. Visualize a big old yellow cat sitting out in the rain, soaking wet, yowling away, and a little black and white kitten cowering under the bushes, obviously terrified of the whole world. The carport gave them shelter from the rain and wind, and then, as if by magic, food appeared. Sigh. I put their pictures up in all the vet’s offices, advertised them on the radio – no takers.
So it was around Halloween when I figured they were here, probably to stay. Hence, their names, maybe. Spook because he was so spooky and Pumpkin because he was a big round orange thing, and it was Halloween. I know, not very creative. But there you are.
Around thanksgiving, I believe that was the year my father spent thanksgiving with us, I cooked a turkey and used it to lure the kitten in. Each day I sat on the steps at their dinner time and tossed little pieces of turkey out to Spook. Closer and closer, each day closer and closer, until after several days, the little guy snatched a piece from my hand and ran under the van to hide and eat it. I froze some small packets of turkey to use as time dragged on until I could actually touch him. Picking him up, however took several months. He did not get to the vet for his shots until February. I got another turkey at Christmas time, just for him! So he got shot and neutered all at the same time. I didn’t think he would ever let me close to him again. He still has his spooky moments. He hides from strangers. Few other people have ever seen him.
Punk, on the other hand, loves everybody. He throws himself in their paths rolling over and yowling to have his belly rubbed. People who have lost yellow (or orange) cats have stopped here when they have seen him to be sure he wasn’t theirs. So he rolls over for them and convinces them that must truly be their “Mittens” until they get close enough to get a good look, or I come out and pick him up for them to inspect. Punk has freckles on his multicolored nose and lips. He is not a pretty cat. People look at the strange pattern on his nose and kinda make a face and say, “NO, that’s not MY cat.” One person asked me if he always looked like that. I told her, “No, I put his make up on for him when we think we might be having company.” I mean, DUH!
Punk has figured out how to knock on the door when he gets hungry, or if I am a bit slow in the morning. Often he and Spook are curled up together in the lawn chair on the carport or in one of their nests if it is cold. Last year Spook spent his days sprawled out in the Adirondack chair like the royalty he is, his black and white fur in beautiful contrast to the red chairs.
Spook and Rascal have long conversations thru the window or the storm door. Rascal will stand on his hind feet for an hour talking to Spook. Spook purrs but doesn’t answer otherwise. Rascal, as you might remember, talks. And talks. And talks. Sometimes I really wish I knew what the big conversation was all about, but maybe I am better off not knowing! Rascal talks to Punk, but he is generally ignored.
Spook being adorable on Groundhog's day.
And Spook in meditation with St Francis. Or is he looking at the bird St Francis is holding in his arms?????
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1 comment:
Spook and Punk REALLY have the life for outside cats. Plenty spoiledl, but they wouldn't be yours if they weren't. Enjoyed their pictures as well as the things they do.
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