Twenty years ago a feral cat gave birth under the house of one of my wife’s friends, the mother soon disappeared so the family raised the kittens until they were old enough to adopt out. We were offered one of the last of the litter and named our tiny tuxedo Scout. I’m close to all our pets but even so Scout and I had a deep bond, sadly cancer took her from us after 12 years but I’m thankful for every day we spent together. I’ve been having off-and-on trouble sleeping lately but it was never as hard as when I came back from a long hiking trip, she’d wake me up throughout the night either to reassure her that I was well and truly home or to tell me I was never to leave her side again, I’m not sure which.
She was four in this picture, sitting beside her favorite catnip plant on the back porch.
I went to the bag because I wished to live deliberately. Then the neighbors moved in.
I found Boo just sitting in the tub, pondering the world. I bet that’s how Descartes did his best work.
“You want the what by when now?”
Templeton working under a deadline in the spring of 2005 during his supervised outside time. He was actually doing what he always did, stealing my spot when I got up. I think I was prepping an older laptop to give to a friend as I had moved onto a 15″ PowerBook a year prior, but the old gray cells are a bit fuzzy on this one.
Taken two minutes apart on Halloween of 2014, Ellie teaches Boo how to wait by the door so they can greet me when I come home from work (he was always eager to take her spot after she got up). Our first cat Templeton used to wait by the door for me, then Scout learned it from him, and Sam and Emma from Scout. But after Ellie arrived the cats learned to hold back a bit as her feet started dancing but she was looking at me and not at cats who might have wandered underfoot. Sam and Boo sometimes greet me at the door now but not with the consistency of the old days.
We’ve had some lovely weather here in Arizona and while I miss my porch buddy, I’m not alone.
With her mouth closed Ellie’s drooping jowls made her look sad and/or bored. In truth she was a bit bored on this occasion in the fall of 2011 and it’s why I didn’t take a ton of pictures of her on our walks even though I often took quick snapshots of the neighborhood itself. She loved going on walks with me and photos were an interruption in our fun time together, she couldn’t know I was capturing those fun times so I could look back and remember. My trick was to wait until she saw someone walking close or another dog approaching and she opened her mouth, for then the mix of sweetness and happiness that was our Ellie was on full display. These two pictures were taken less than a minute apart.
Boo in 2014 at the picture window of the dining room of our house in Portland, deep in the philosopher part of his philosopher/goofball persona.
The kitchen of our house in Portland had a little section where the windows extended out of the house, providing an expansive view up and down squirrel alley. Fortunately it was down near the end of the counter, away from the food prep section, as our smallest wildlife watchers found it irresistible no matter what rules existed about walking on the counters.
Ellie in the backyard in January 2009, three weeks after we adopted her. It looks a little posed, her paw on the tennis ball, but she did that in the early days. Did she stop it at some point? I remember her doing it back then but not after that, maybe it’s my faulty memory, maybe it had just been a while since she was able to run and fetch. She’s probably looking at my wife offscreen, she followed her everywhere in those days. Our bond became so strong for so long that it’s easy for me to forget that it took some time to form. The love was immediate though, on both sides, to know her was to love her.