Friday
Aug162013
Logbook: Nuiqsut to Wasilla, via Barrow and Anchorage, final entry: The good black cat
Friday, August 16, 2013 at 11:38PM 
We reached Wasilla, where I stepped through the door to our house and was greeted by the good black cat, Jim Slim Many Toes. "Meow!" he exclaimed excitedly. He lifted his head to meet my hand. He dashed off, then dashed back to brush against my ankle, dashed off again, then dashed back to brush against my ankle once more. I walked down the hall toward the bedroom. He scampered ahead of me. It is good to come home and be greeted by a happy cat.
tagged Jim in Logbook entry, Wasilla, cat
Jim in Logbook entry, Wasilla, cat
Reader Comments (5)
Slim Jim is happy indeed! I wonder if cats slip off to school to learn how to greet us when we run away from home and need to greet us but walk away while doing it so we don't take them for granted!
Jim Slim Many Toes? I'm guessing he has extra toes. We had a cat like that. She was a dilute calico that we chose as a kitten because she had extra toes. We thought that would make her a great hunter and superb at killing the gophers that were ravaging the new bluegrass lawn. Names are important, and one must consider carefully when naming things. We decided to name her "Killer" to inspire her and cement her mission in our lives. Turns out that God had blessed her with more toes and fewer brain cells. Killer would only "kill" an already dead gopher, mouse, or rat. While this was disappointing to us that she wasn't making good use of those extra appendages, the lack of brain cells made up for that disappointment in entertainment.
Killer loved to blindside the Siamese and bolt at top speed. She would look back to see how close her victim was and inevitably run head-first into the refrigerator. This was a daily routine. The Siamese, however, was quite clever and exacted her revenge. Each day as the sun came in the window to shine on the middle of the waterbed, Killer would curl up and snooze in the puddle of sunshine. One side of the bed happened to be close to the wall. The Siamese would sneak up on tippy toes, take a giant leap, and scare the BEJEEZUS out of Killer. Killer's unfailing reflexive response was ALWAYS to jump up and sideways into the wall, knock herself silly, and slide down to the floor to land in a confused lump. Don't think Killer didn't have courage though, or maybe it WAS just plain stupidity. We had a Labrador retriever next door who was affable enough as Labs are, but he had taken to retrieving cats in the neighborhood and killing them. Whenever he arrived in our yard and Killer was outside, she chased him down and unceremoniously dispatched him with a couple of smacks on his butt. You know, smacks from a cat with extra-toes means extra weaponry.
Killer tried very hard to outlive us and well may have if we hadn't decided it was the kindest thing to have her euthanized at the ripe old age of almost 19. By then she had developed hyper-thyrhoidism that just could not be controlled. Rather than watch her disappear before our eyes as she was losing weight at an alarming rate, it appeared to be time to help her along on her next journey. Even then, that feisty little cat with extra toes and very little brain refused to die. After putting her into a deep sleep with a barbituate, the vet had to shoot the Euthanol directly into her heart twice. As she was writing up the bill, the vet (my good friend) laconically remarked she wasn't charging me for the extra Euthanol that could have killed a 65 pound dog. RIP Killer.
MrsGunka - I'm pretty sure cats do that, but in this case Jim was just so excited he could not stay still.
WakeUpAmerica - Wow! 19! If I have Jim's ago calculated right, he is 13 this month. Chicago is about 15. I hope I get to enjoy both of them for some years to come and you give me hope I might. Killer may not have been dangerous to rodents, but she sure was to cat-killing dogs! I might add - you can really write. Good story!
Thank you, Bill!
You're welcom, WUA...