[I wrote the following piece, which was published several years ago. It is all true, but sadly Cougar has already moved on to Rainbow Bridge. The years have not assuaged my grief.]
It was a bright and beautiful and sunny day – the kind of day made for taking a ride in the country. Alcorn County Mississippi was created by God just for those who love to live in a world of lush flora: red oak and white pine; flowering dogwood and redwood cedar. Sycamore trees and the black gum proliferate, along with the blackberry bush and the honeysuckle vine. One can drive for miles through thick forest then follow that with acres of open pasture, covered in winter wheat, lush and green.
North Mississippi is home to white-tailed deer and red fox, skunk and wild coyote. Wild bear and bobcats roam the forests. The list of fauna is too long to here list, but among the wild creatures can also be found those that were originally bred to be domesticated.
There are many colonies of feral cats and packs of wild dogs. I see these creatures on and around Willow Oak, my 16 acre farm, almost on a daily basis. I have already written about how I stalked and eventually trapped Buddy, a beautiful white tabby, who lives with me to this day. And I have reported about my acquisition of Scamp, the wild-born puppy, who likewise still resides at Willow Oak. Not all animals that I rescue or otherwise catch find themselves living with me. I have delivered many of them to the animal shelter of the Corinth Alcorn County Humane Shelter. It breaks my heart that I cannot keep them all.
But once in a while I do come across a dog or a cat, which I simply cannot deliver to the shelter. I specialize in reclaiming the least desirable among the many waifs and wastrels that cross my path. I live for the opportunity to restore to life the sickly, the castoff and the forlorn.
Don’t get me wrong. I would love to live the life of the carefree bachelor: coming home from work on a Friday; taking my boat out to Pickwick Lake; spending the weekend lazing about, barbecuing and watching TV. But, since I began being the benefactor of so many unwanted vagabonds I cannot even so much as take a day off. For me there are no vacations or weekend trips to the Gulf of Mexico.
On that beautiful day of which I am speaking I was driving my mother to a make a visit to a young lady she had met. The lady had some antique furniture, and mother had her mind set on buying that grandfather clock she had heard so much about.
Mississippi does have its highways and interstate system, but we are still very rural, and if one wants to go anywhere in this part of the country he must expect to traverse one of the many backwoods, country roads that lead everywhere many of them winding and twisting; and on their path it is very easy to get lost.
Such was the case that day. We knew that we were somewhere near the Kossuth vicinity, but we needed help, so we managed to find an out-of-the-way service station, and I pulled in to ask directions.
If there is one thing about the good folks who live in Mississippi, they are among the most congenial and reliable people on the face of the earth – real “salt of the earth” people. I was able to get my bearings straight, and having made a token purchase from the store, I returned to my truck.
But before I made it back to my truck I heard a familiar call: “Mister! Mister! Help me, mister! I am lost and all alone, and I don’t have anybody to help me. I am afraid of all these cars and there are some mean dogs and they frighten me, and I am all alone, mister, will you help me please!”
I turned to see the scrawny little gray-striped tabby stalking me from behind. He was small and skinny, and obviously in need of a good meal. But I already had more than my share of critters, and besides, he probably belonged to someone who lived nearby.
“Please, mister! Don’t leave me, mister!”
Well, here we go again. I returned to the store and inquired about the cat. No, they did not know the cat nor from whence he came, but they sure did wish that he would return. Did anyone there need a kitty? No, they already had all they needed. Well, what was to happen to him?
There is another thing about the good folks who live in Mississippi. They are very fond of their guns. And they are not afraid to use them. Mississippi is such a hot spot of sportsmen who hunt deer and wild boar, that president Teddy Roosevelt once made a special trip to one of the lush parks of Mississippi, to do some bear hunting. That is another story in and of itself, but it was on that particular hunting trip that Mr. Roosevelt experienced a change of heart about shooting innocent and unarmed animals, and as a result of his sparing the life of a young bear cub the famous “Teddy Bear” was born.
Now I was being told that the owner of the station had gone home to retrieve his gun – especially for the succinct purpose of relieving the establishment of one pestering feline, who was bothering the customers and just being a general nuisance. So having heard that, I once again excused myself from the store and headed back to my truck.
The little guy was there on the pavement, obviously exposed to any danger that might be lurking for one unprotected feline – unsuspecting of what was about to befall him.
I had my mother with me, and we were on an important errand, and that errand did not include rescuing cats. So I did the only thing my conscience would allow: I scooped the little fellow into my arms and deposited him into the cab of my truck. I would finish my errand then deliver the cat to the shelter …, when I found the time.
Several years have passed since that day, and I think on that day often, about how beautiful the country side was, with its isolated little farms that sit nestled among the vast and open fields of Timothy hay, surrounded from there by the thick forests of tulip poplar and loblolly pine. I think about that grandfather clock and the melodious and nostalgic notes that still emanate in rhythm from within its bowels.
And I think about the little gray tabby I rescued from a sure and inglorious demise, and the good intentions I had to deliver him to the animal shelter. Good intentions. Although several years have passed since that day, I have yet to find the time to fulfill those good intentions. And I’m glad I have not found the time to do so.
Cougar, who lies in my lap as I write these very words, wouldn’t have it any other way.
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Lilith Cherry
12/02
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