Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
In honor of my 500th picture posted to Flickr, this is the first picture I took of my beloved Scout after we adopted her. It was just a quick snapshot, and of course at the time I had no way of knowing that a remarkable bond would develop between us and she would be my constant companion for almost 12 years until spleen cancer would end her life far too soon.
I’ve never put this picture of Scout online before as it’s just a simple snapshot from when she was around one year old, but I was editing it today and my eyes filled with tears and I had to put it aside for a while. It caught me off guard, as while I will go to my grave missing her, she died two years ago and usually by now the sense of loss isn’t quite so pointed. Besides I’ve edited other pictures of her recently with only the expected dull ache of distant loss.
I suppose it has as much to do with Emma as Scout as I’ve been thinking a lot about her recently. Grieving for her got interrupted with the health problems the other pets had and as needs must, we focused on the sick more than the dead. They were both far too young when they died, especially Em, and while we tried everything to save them, ultimately their fates were out of our hands.
The silver lining, of course, in outliving our pets is that as sorry as I am to have lost Scout and Emma, I’m happy to have welcomed Boo and Trixie into our home. Only I hope I won’t grieve for their loss for many years to come.
I don’t think I’ve put this picture of Scout from 2001 online before, she’s sleeping on my side of the bed in the master bedroom of our old house and had been with us for about 5 months. Right from the get-go she climbed on to my chest every night when I went to bed.
My sweet Scout died a year ago today and not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of her. The healing process took much longer than I expected, and while there are still times I miss her intensely, mostly I’m filled with fond memories rather than grief over what I lost. I didn’t photograph her a lot in her last year as she hated the camera, but thankfully on this day in the fall I went and got my camera when I saw her resting on the guest bed with our youngest cat Sam (she’s looking at him just out of frame, he was curled up in a sunbeam under the window).
Last fall I experimented with taking pictures out of my office window of the birds that visit the backyard, such as this female flicker at the suet feeder. At first I tried shooting through the glass but the pictures were far too soft, so I opened the window just enough for the big telephoto to fit through.
The smells and sounds of the outdoors brought the cats over to investigate, one by one, but I shooed them away so I wouldn’t have to worry about them jumping through the opening to freedom, sweet freedom. Scout grunted when I pushed her back, looking puzzled. We were so rarely at cross purposes that she had to be sure I hadn’t mistaken her for one of the other cats. She tried for the window again and I gently pushed her back, then again, and again, before she finally wheeled about and walked out of the room with her tail raised high.
She asked for so little, but what she wanted, she wanted. Usually what she wanted I was happy to give her, but even I sometimes had to tell my beloved Scout, “no”.
As soon as I closed the window and returned to the couch, having forgiven my insolence, she jumped onto my chest and purred.
She was the best.
While Boo’s black-and-white coat resembles Scout’s in some ways, it was his early attempts to get up into the ceiling and ducts that reminded me most of her. Up above you can see a board above the circuit breakers, placed there when we moved in over a decade ago to keep Scout out. It was a constant battle in those early days, we’d block off access to one spot and she’d find another. She was crafty so it usually took multiple attempts to block her out for good.
Scout was already full grown when we moved in so skinny little Boo was able to find one spot into the ducts that we hadn’t blocked off but that was soon rectified. He got dirty during his foray but we had learned from past experience to let him clean himself. I didn’t use to believe in superheroes, ordinary people one moment who in a flash could transform into something greater. But one day after sneaking into the ducts Scout came out looking like a furry little coal miner, so I gave her a bath in the same utility sink Boo is standing in above. The moment the water hit her fur, my sweet little girl grew ten legs, each ending in a paw with a hundred claws. Some sought for purchase as she tried to wiggle from my grasp, leaving the others free to flail wildly and attack whatever they could. She dug into my hands, my arms, my chest, and rather painfully into my nose.
That’s me below holding Scout after her bath, drying her off with a towel. Fortunately Scout couldn’t hold a grudge, not even for a moment, so she quickly forgave me and we never spoke of it again.
Meet the newest member of our family, a seven-month-old kitten named Boo.
I thought it most likely we would adopt one of the many impossibly cute two-month-old kittens at the Oregon Humane Society as it seemed like it would have the best odds of integrating with our other pets. But my wife found an older kitten named Bronco who had been at the shelter for a couple of weeks but was struggling with life there. His previous owners said he got along with cats and dogs so she went down Wednesday evening before OHS closed to meet him. He was extremely shy and shook like a leaf when she met him, but eventually he warmed up to her and she wanted me to meet him.
OHS was closed on Thursday for the 4th of July but we went down first thing on Friday morning. He shook at first too when I met him but then warmed up much quicker than I expected and soon was walking in and out of my lap and purring loudly.
It was settled. He was coming home with us, and getting a new name.
I didn’t try for pictures yesterday since it was such a stressful day for the poor little fellow but in the meantime his confidence has grown by leaps and bounds. Plus a new camera arrived this morning that is much less obtrusive and he was happy enough to be my first test subject, pausing for a brief moment while playing in a paper bag.
As with Scout, Boo takes his name from Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird”. At the end of the book, Boo and Scout share a moment that is one of my favorites in all of literature. Our Boo and Scout never met as Boo joins us five months after her death. Their coloring is similar but that wasn’t a deliberate choice (that’s Boo above, Scout at a similar age below). The timing worked out nicely as a few weeks ago the similarity would have been too much for me to bear.
So welcome, Boo. You’re home now.
I always knew Scout’s death would be particularly hard for me but I didn’t expect it to be this hard. It’s been four months since she died but the road to recovery has been a slower walk than I expected. It hasn’t helped that work got unexpectedly stressful and hectic during those months, leaving me so worn out that I was often falling asleep after dinner. Rather embarrassing for a night owl like me.
They say you shouldn’t make any major changes in the wake of the loss of a loved one, and though I suppose the advice usually applies to the death of a spouse I’ve applied it here as well, for there have been a number of times the past few months I’ve felt like abandoning wildlife photography. I suppose that’s partly a reaction to the amount of time it takes to photograph the way I like and partly to the new telephotos being priced far out of my range.
It is true I haven’t been up to Ridgefield since January, partly because I haven’t felt like going, but partly because I’ve been too tired to get up at the early hours I like to visit the refuge. And I guess I did put my camera aside entirely for a few months until I started taking pictures of the pets again these past few weeks, but at least I did use my time away from Ridgefield to start expanding out the wildflower garden I started a few years ago. I’m slowly making the backyard more bird friendly, as I’ve been experimenting with shooting birds from my office window. And this fall when the birds migrate back, I’ll join them at Ridgefield.
Unfortunately I didn’t get much done on the computer since our cat Sam, who had been close to Scout and struggled too after her death, was constantly snuggled up on my lap where my computer normally resides. But coincident with the warming weather and opening of windows he has ventured further afield, so I’m making my return to blogging and hope to get caught up on email.
This picture of Scout is from January of 2007 as she sat in her heated bed in my office. Templeton was still alive then but would die at the end of the year, shortly before we adopted our cats Sam and Emma, a year before our dog Ellie. Life marches on and someday soon I’ll be able to look at pictures of Scout with all smiles and no tears, just as I can with Templeton.
I’m just not quite there yet.
Scout would have turned twelve today.
This was my view these past twelve years as I edited nearly every image you’ve seen here, Scout in her heated bed, sitting right in front of me. Usually she’d be curled up in the bed but sometimes she’d watch me as I worked. She was a tiny little thing so if she was laying down she had to stick her head up to reach the top. It didn’t look too comfortable but it always made me laugh.
Oh Scout, you were the best, and I miss you so.
We weren’t sure how Templeton would react to having another cat in the house when we brought Scout home in May of 2001, but thankfully he accepted her quickly. She idolized him and snuggled with him every chance she got, and he’d often lick her head and sometimes give her an entire bath. The two friends have been reunited again. As we did with Templeton, we had Scout cremated and my wife picked up her remains on Saturday. Scout’s ashes now join Templeton’s up on the mantle.
I took this picture of Templeton and Scout snuggling in the window seat of our old house in November of 2001. Nearly everything in the picture has changed since then. Both Templeton and Scout have since passed away. We moved half a year after the picture was taken and I no longer have that wonderful window seat where the cats and I so often snuggled. The pad that lined the seat, just visible in the lower left corner, was made by my mother-in-law who passed away a few years ago.
The blanket though, made by my wife for me years ago, remains. Time has taken its toll and there are tears in the fabric, but it remains the blanket I use every day in my office. It links all the pets together, as all past and present spent many hours sleeping and snuggling on it. I took it into the bedroom when Scout and I stayed there at the end of her life, she spent her last day on it as she slept on my chest.
There are more valuable blankets, but none more treasured.
Boolie 