- Bowser
Back in 1980 when I was living alone on twelve acres on the bay, I thought it might be nice to have a dog, both for companionship and, perhaps, for safety purposes. My cousin, Cassy, and her fiancé, John, were living in Ilwaco at that time, and she dearly wanted a cat. Our ‘wants’ were the subject of much talk, but no action.
One stormy afternoon in late November when I pulled up to my gate, I heard a plaintiff meowing in the woods. I called, I looked, I got soaked, but I couldn’t find the source. So I proceeded up my drive and immediately called Cass and told her I thought I had found a cat for her. She said she’d tell John when he got home from work.
A few hours later there was a thump, thump, thump up my steps and in burst John, still in his hip boots after a no-doubt miserable day out on the oyster beds. In one of his big hands was a bedraggled ball of fur – a tiny kitten looking much too young to leave its mother.
“Here’s your damned cat,” said John thrusting the dripping bundle toward me.
“Wait a minute, it’s supposed to be for Cassy,” I protested.
“We don’t need a cat,” he said. “And besides, I think it’s damaged. It only has part of its tail.”
And so it came to be that Bowser-The-Watch-Cat moved in with me and spent the next nineteen years thinking she was a dog – but a special kind of dog. The kind that is pretty independent, doesn’t need to be walked, cleans up for herself, and when necessary, can survive on voles and shrews and other small prey.
Bowser’s mother came around for the next few days but wouldn’t let me get close. She was obviously feral and had no discernable tail at all – Manx she told me. The little one seemed totally content to stay with me and when I took her to Dr. Goulter who was the veterinarian at that time, he cautioned me to keep her inside for a few months – too tempting a morsel for the hawks.
As it turned out, a few months later Bowser did have a run-in with a red tailed hawk. Fortunately, she got away, her only injury being a large flap of fur and skin peeled back from her side. Eighteen stitches put her to rights and, I must say, that on the rare occasions that Bowser presented me with a small bird she had managed to get, I didn’t feel too badly. Tit for tat.
Bowser and I had many adventures together. Like a dog, she would follow me when I went on an explore in the woods or took a walk out on the tideflats in front of the house. If I had a bag of Doritos Nacho Cheese Chips, she came running when it was opened. It was the only people food she ever ate and she was always satisfied with one chip. If I opened any other bag of chips, they were ignored. It must have been the nacho cheese aroma that called. When Nyel came into my life, Bowser subtly transferred most of her attention to him. I didn’t mind a bit, and neither did Nyel.
By the time we moved into the family house in ‘downtown’ Oysterville, Bowser was seventeen. We worried that she had never known traffic and now we were living right next to the street. Always she had been an outside cat, but she adjusted well to a litter box (better than I did) and to staying indoors except when we were with her. She lived two more years; nineteen is a venerable age for a cat.
We talk about getting another cat, but the years go by (almost ten, now) and we don’t do it. Maybe we are waiting for another mournful meow on a stormy night…
Love your story about Bowser! Cats seem to acquire people, we don’t really acquire them. Many years ago we started out with two cats (outdoor…ok…they did have heated beds in the garage). When we moved to a 5 acre home we ended up with 5. Seems one 17 year old came with our new house (they were going to put him down) and two others were unhappy with their current owners. So we happily plugged three more cat beds in the garage and we all lived happily ever after. We don’t have a cat now. We think about getting one and our poor dog cries whenever he sees one. After all, he was raised by cats!
Okay Sydney — You sucked me in in with Your Cat Story — I a few weeks ago lost my Cricket that had lived with us for nineteen years — she came from next door to Rich and Kay Hall in Bakers Bay — and was a very Wonderful Must Treasured and Loved Friend — we have three others who live here — but Cricket can never be Replaced —She was a Very Rare Special Friend —- Now I shall go to the Piles — later and Thank You
I also have rescued feral cats. Dirty Hairy and Blackie are 16 now and in good health. Dirty Hairy came from the woods in Chinook and Blackie came from under an electrical transfomer at the Potlatch in Long Beach. They tamed down quite well with wet cat food on the end on a gloved finger and a thick bath towel. They have been wonderful additions to the family and really hope they will be for several more years!
In August 1987 we had moved into a house in Chinook when a manx adopted us. We called her “Peter No-Tail” for a cartoon my youngest had loved when we lived in CA. Once school started one of the boys met “Peter’s” owner. It turned out that she’d left home because they’d just gotten two Pit Bull puppies. I didn’t blame her. We offered to return her, but the boy said, no she was probably happier with us. When we moved to Nachotta the following spring we offered again, but she moved with us and was unfortunately killed by a neighbor dog. I believe she enjoyed the last three years of her life. Thanks for bringing Peter to mind.
Your story got me thinking about the cats I’ve had in my own life. There was Funny Face and Fluffy and Ivan the Terrible and Joey and Abby and the Hell Bitch Cat Koska. Each one evokes memories of people, places, events. I was wondering why you chose to write about Bowser today, expecting that maybe you and Nyel had finally given in and gotten a cat. However, since the story didn’t end with an adoption, I’m guessing that the miserable November weather has brought back memories of the time you found Bowser?
Actually, Bowser came to mind when I was considering writing something else entirely. I was thinking about the similarities and differences between “cat people” and “dog people.” Contrary to what you might think (and I thank you for that!), my blog subjects don’t really come from any logical considerations — just things that pop into my head or are on my mind at the moment.