Here’s the other black cat in my life. Her name is Scout and unlike her sister Lucy she has short hair and a much kinder vibe. We also like to call her Chicken-legs-fish-lips-soul-of-a-dog, because it fits. Her big drumstick hind legs are really something to behold, and she sprawls and sits back with belly out and a resigned countenance as my youngest lugs her around the house. She’s actually too nice to be a cat or to truly be related to her sister. Hold your face close and she just can’t resist rubbing her cheek against it, even if she’s miffed about something. She loooooves us. Soul of a dog.
I also call her monkey paws. If she wanted to I’m sure she could pick locks with those things.
Here’s something funny. No nose. And what happened to the fish lips?
She’s often my muse in my other world of painting. She likes to …um….. stay still a lot. It’s a sign of how obstinate I am that I repeatedly try to paint a completely black cat.
Her sister is the better hunter, but after a winter of being indoor cats they both burst out into the world and haul in many many poor timorous beasties. Many survive the experience, and I don’t want to brag but still want you to be completely impressed by the list of creatures that I’ve returned outside, somewhat spitty and dazed and tossing nasty looks back at me as they limp off into the bushes. Prepare to be amazed: Mice, voles, shrews, moles, bats (!!!!!), a furious chipmunk, the odd bird, lizards, and snakes (who really do pee when stressed). Lucy prefers soft things, feathered and furred, whereas Scout is the reptile specialist. She has a passionate interest in the small lizards that live around here, and carries them in in her mouth, dropping them on the living room floor and staring at them in stunned disbelief at what she’s pulled off. After fearlessly carrying them in, dangling by their heads out of her mouth, she’s suddenly terribly overwhelmed and nervous about what to do with this thing. The poor thing will often as not toss off its tail in an attempt at distraction. So really that should have been on my list too. Lizard tails. Still moving. Ugh.
(I know. That part was a bit nasty, wasn’t it? I am sorry. If it helps at all I successfully resisted the photo I took on coming in from the gym and finding half a shrew at my feet. I was itching to show you that.)
Food is very very important to Scout. From a deep sleep upstairs she can hear the sound of my jaw moving and come to investigate. She can also hear the splish of yogurt sliding into a bowl and would sell her soul-of-a-dog to have it. But that niceness comes out again and she jumps up and sits beside me, mostly patiently waiting for me to finish and let her lick the bowl out. Sometimes she has to shuffle her feet a little because I’m soooo slow eating!! Occasionally she forgets herself and leans forward, whiffling her nose closer and closer to my bowl, just checking. A gentle “Scout”, my voice dropping with just a hint of disappointment at her lack of manners, is enough to make her back up and look shame-faced. She did know better. She’s sorry. See? Not a cat.
She likes to help out when she can. Hang out with me at my desk. Give me some support. Maybe a pointer or two.
But I’m just so boring.
She loves fruit, and becomes loopy at the smell of bananas. She comes up on her hind legs and leans against the cupboards staring with hope up into my eyes when I cut meat. She comes running and pushes her way in the door when I’m in the bathroom ( I don’t know why!!). She sleeps on my daughter’s head at night and towards morning nibbles at her hair and makes it spitty. She does amazing happy rolls. She seldom looks at us like we’re idiots. She’s weird! Go figure that we’d end up with a quirky cat. How on earth did that happen? Smirk.