BACKTRACKING
A Cat Named Ducks
by
Terry Hogan
We
have a cat named ÒDucksÓ. Yes plural – ÒDucksÓ. It is a long story.
It is an orange cat. He is really pretty much an ugly cat. Ducks came to
our home as a trade. I have a
friend a work who was looking for a home for some small ducks who were not so
small anymore. They had outgrown the garage and his little girl. I said that my wife had a friend who
liked animals and lived on a farm with a duck pond. Well, as it turns out, she
also had a cat that she saved from death at the local county animal
shelter. A trade was made. We got the cat, which we named ÒDucksÓ
for obvious reasons. And the real
ducks? They found a home at another farm. But by then, we had Ducks.
Ducks
has had a hard life. He was neutered
and declawed before he either escaped or was dumped. Being declawed and neutered, he not only got abused by other
male cats, but he was at a serious disadvantage when it came to capturing
dinner. Ducks has one ear that is serrated from too many fights. The other ear is malformed, probably
from frostbite according to our vets.
Head on, he looks a little bit like the old fighter who had fought too
often. And this may be true of
Ducks.
Ducks
has been with us for a few weeks now and we are learning bits and pieces about
his past life. Unlike other cats
we have had, he likes children. He
doesnÕt hide. He squeezes in-between
them to study coloring books on the floor. So, he must have had children in his previous home. Ducks is also addicted to milk –
twice a day. He becomes very
emphatic if we are slow to provide it.
Ducks does everything but open the refrigerator door and pour the milk
out himself. Ducks does have a
good internal alarm system. Our
clock is set for 5:15 am, Monday through Friday. Ducks arrives on the bed about 4:45 to 5 am, demanding his
milk. Unfortunately, DucksÕ alarm
does not reset on weekends.
We
bought Ducks some play toys- stuffed mice to be exact. Unlike most cats that pat at the toys
with the front claws and bite with their teeth, Ducks kicks the toy to his hind
paws where he had claws. He
learned that clawless front feet provided little to grasp mice with, so he
adapted to a hind feet strategy.
Ducks
doesnÕt meow like a normal cat.
IÕm not sure why. For the
first few days we had him, he was silent.
Then he began to make a noise that sounded like he must be the ÒAndy
DevineÓ of the cat world. (If you
donÕt remember Andy Devine, he was a TV cowboy sidekick who had a very gravelly
voice. I remember being told that
his voice was due to falling with a pencil or other object in his mouth, but I
canÕt vouch to that). But that is
Ducks. He meows in a gravelly-sort-of voice that probably reflects some other
hard life incident he has had.
But
he has the good life now. And he
acts like he knew it was just a matter of time. Now it is milk twice a day; fresh food and water and clean
kitty litter. He has soft places to sleep. He has lots of windows and doors to
watch those pesky squirrels, chipmunks and birds who have to make their own way
on the outside.
But
Ducks is not an isolated story. My
wifeÕs friend works at the animal shelter and is a soft touch. She frequently takes animals home when
their days are about to run out.
Her husband is a vet. He gets tagged to provide free medical aid to the
hapless creatures. She recently
found a home for a large gray parrot.
The parrot had come from an unusual home that specialized in watching
pornographic movies. The parrot
picked up Ògraphic languageÓ and sound effects that are typical of X-rated
movies. He became an X-rated parrot.
I donÕt know where the gray parrot was placed, but IÕd like to think it
was with a retired minister who is very hard of hearing. No matter where he landed, IÕm sure he
is an ice-breaker for conversation.
All
in all, given the choice between Ducks and an X-rated gray parrot, I guess we
made the right choice.
4-26-05