Hillbilly Cats

Lucille is a strictly indoors cat, but she's shown here outside on the steps in front of my dad's house.  The first photo below gives you a glimpse of how she looks when she's really ticked off.

I was never a cat person, until apartment dwelling for many years made it impossible to have a dog.  Finally, after my dad's porch cat (a stray that had lived on his porch for about a year) was murdered by the roving band of neighborhood dogs, I decided to turn the other stray cat living in his yard into an apartment cat. 

Spooky, who we believe to be the son of the porch cat (Miss Kitty), had taken up residence in a giant spruce tree in my dad's yard.  He sneaked in and grabbed some of his mom's food at night, until we determined where he was living and set up a nice "tree house" on stilts for him.  From then on my dad gave him his own ration each day out in the tree.  After Miss Kitty's death, my dad was worried about the other cat's fate, so I found an apartment that allowed cats and began the process of turning him into a city cat.  That proved remarkably easy. He readily adapted to a life of sloth and regular feedings.

Spooky is a very affectionate cat, and, when it was just the two of us, he'd follow me around everywhere in the apartment. After a couple of years I got the bright idea that maybe he needed some feline companionship. So, one freezing, snowy January Saturday, I went to a local pet store that rescues cats from the animal shelter, spays/neuters them, and then finds homes for them. They had quite a collection of adult cats, mostly males. I knew Spooky had had no contact with another cat in years, most likely not since leaving his littermates, so I was a little hesitant to get an adult cat, especially another male. You see, I'm used to male dogs, and our male dogs have always had a habit of fighting. The only young cat was a scruffy brown mackerel tabby -- luckily, it was a female. I have to admit, had there been another option, I likely wouldn't have gotten Lucille, but as I'd driven out in the snow and was determined that that was the day Spooky would get a friend, I decided to take her.

She was just tiny -- only about 4 pounds, approximately 8 weeks old, and recovering from being spayed only the day before. As it turned out, Lucille had been at the pet store less than 24 hours. She also had a respiratory infection that required a round of antibiotics. When I got her out in the car, I kept thinking, "My gosh, this is a sad looking critter. What in the heck have I done." When we got home, Spooky (a 14-pound cat) was absolutely terrified of her and hid under the bed. Lucille had no fear of him at all and wanted to romp and play.  

Gradually, during the next 2 days, Spooky figured out he and Lucille were of the same species and since then he's been very attached to her. Lucille likes to play with him, but I think if the truth were known, she's pretty indifferent about everything, including Spooky. Spooky, on the other hand, lets me know when Lucille is stuck in the basement or closet by following me around and giving me a long, questioning meow. He's always let her eat his food -- only occasionally does he bop her on the head with one of his "mop feet" (as I like to call them).

Now, Lucille is nearly as heavy as Spooky. She has quite a different personality -- more of the aloof sort. At night, her favorite game is attacking my feet through the covers on my bed. She's also vigilant in eradicating moths from the house, sometimes knocking over lamps and tearing up mini-blinds in the process.

Both love sitting in the screened porch and watching birds at the the birdfeeders.  There's a birdfeeder in the front of the house, too, which allows them also to watch birds from the bedroom window.  Spooky is the guard-cat and alerts me whenever one of the neighborhood cats is prowling around the house at night.