The Story of My Scout

A year and a half ago, I lost my darling little Oy. Oy was a kitten that was found in the back of the printing plant where I worked at the time. He was only 4 weeks old and the woman who was working as receptionist found him covered in oil and grease. Cleaned him up and wanted someone to adopt him.

I already had my Sammy cat at the time but as soon as I saw Oy I knew he had to come home with me.  And he did.  Had to de-worm him (twice). Fed him with a bottle even until he was able to eat food on his own.  And although they didn't get along at first (Sammy was so afraid of the kitten!), it only took weeks for them to play together, curl up and sleep together, terrorize me together at 3am for food.

Oy lived until almost 17 years old; Sammy passed about 4 years before that and having Oy helped me get through that for sure.

But after Oy passed, I wasn't ready for another fur kid.  I remember saying (and writing) I couldn't imagine a home without a pet, but I still did it for a year and a half and got used to it. Bah. None of my budget had to go for food or litter or toys or whatever. I could come and go as I wanted and not worry. I'm fine without one.  And I was. Because I was never really at home much.  I live in the city: was always out doing something or another.  It didn't matter that there was something at home waiting on me; or, rather, counting on me. It was better there wasn't!  But I still thought about it. 

Kinda.

And then my accident happened last fall. Broke my jaw; had to be wired shut for a month.  I spent weeks home, not going out. Didn't mind being home (did mind the wires!) but it made me think again: "hmmm. wouldn't it be nice to have a kitty again?" But I kind of put it out of my head too. Pets are a huge responsibility. A step up from plants (and I have one that's 20 years old, thankyouverymuch), but still a responsibility.

So I healed (still healing).  And I didn't plan to go home for Christmas this year (was just there in September for a wonderful week-long visit) but after the accident wanted to be with my Mom so I planned it.  And I went.  And her two cats, as always, were all over me. Lap kitties. Purr-buckets (tm). They would curl up on my lap or next to me on a pillow, purring their hearts out and I realized: my horrible experience this past fall might have been more tolerable had I had that. Perhaps.

I think the visit home actually solidified what I was already thinking because I made an appointment at the shelter before I even left. I kept it in the back of my mind that I could always cancel the appointment, but after the visit home, I knew I didn't want to.

So I got home after the holidays and kept the appointment. I knew I wanted a "lap cat."  I wanted a cuddle buddy: I envisioned winter nights on the couch, reading my books, with a kitty fast asleep and purring on my lap. It was time again for that.

I went to the shelter and, as planned beforehand, just decided I'd go into a room full of cats and just sit down. Just sit down and see what happened.

And what happened was this cat called Jesus (pronounced the Hispanic way "Hay-Zeus") instantly came up and crawled up on my lap. I petted him; he was sweet. But I figured: "okay, this is the FIRST cat. I gotta keep an open mind here."  So I gently pushed him off my lap and stood up and went to an adjoining room.  Sat back down again.

Hay-Zeus followed. Crawled back onto my lap again and started purring. A slew of other cats came up to me (I was sitting crossed-legged on the floor afterall) but Hay-Zeus started pawing at every other one that came over.  Not claws out; just soft paw. Almost like he was trying to say: "yeah, I know. She's cool, but she's mine. go away."

And it was sealed.

I didn't choose my fur kid; he chose me. (Kinda like you don't choose wands but wands choose you, for you Harry Potter folk. Yep. Geeking out now, I am.)

I didn't learn until after I  (he) did and we were going through the paperwork that little Hay-Zeus had actually been in the shelter for five years. Five YEARS! I can't even wrap my head around that.  That a cat who didn't have consistent human companionship would actually be such a lap kitty or would want a human companion and choose me as opposed to wanting to live still with a bunch of other cats instead.  Afterall, it's all he knew. Right?

So I brought him home that day and I'm honestly surprised at how incredibly well-adjusted he was then and still is.  In the car with me for the first time? Not a peep. Just sat there happy in his carrier like "where we goin' mama? Don't matter. I'm here now." At home? From day one he used the litter box and used scratching posts instead of my furniture. Having been in a shelter that long, he doesn't even beg for "people food."  And every evening, he curls up on my lap as I'm watching TV or reading a book; purring his heart out. And when I tell him: "okay, bedtime." He comes and curls up in bed with me.  I will always be amazed by this.  A kitty who never knew human companionship picked a woman who thought she might need might need something other than human companionship again.

Kismet?

Oh, yeah. That name Hay-Zeus wasn't happenin'.  I renamed him after much thought.

Scout.

From my favorite book.

And he actually answers to it too.

So this has been the story of Scout.

When you rescue a pet? They kinda rescue you right back.

I learned a couple weeks after his adoption (when I had to bring him back for inoculations that came with the adoption fee) that one of the volunteers actually was thinking about finally adopting him too because he was a favorite in the shelter. No one understood why no one took him before; except he wasn't a kitten. And most people want kittens, right?

The shelter has asked me repeatedly to please send updates and photos because he was so loved there and that everyone will be ecstatic to hear he finally found a forever home.  After all that time. A forever home!  And oh, that was a hard request, right? Because I NEVER post photos or update my Facebook or blog or anything. ;-)

So now he runs. And he plays. And he has not A room but five he can play in.  Folks ask me when I'm going to get a playmate for him, but I really think he doesn't want that.  He wanted a human.  He's happy and content and loved and doesn't realize that more than he needed or wanted me?

I needed him. :)

And that's the Story of My Scout.

The Song Remains the Same. Except in these Seven.

When I hear some songs for the first time I instantly hate them.  Whether the lyrics, the beat or the artist -- can't stand them. These songs I absolutely hated until I had a different association for them.  Now I love them. For these reasons:

1.) Aerosmith: "Dream On"
Not sure why I hated it; I usually like Aerosmith. But this song always grated on me until I saw one of my favorite movies ever and actually the very first movie I ever owned on DVD (and I never owned any on VHS even!). "Miracle" -- about the 1980 Olympic USA Men's hockey team. In the final credits, this song plays and the credits update us all on where those players are today.  After seeing and hearing that? I now adore this song.

2.) The Verbe: "Bittersweet Symphony"
It's annoying as all get out! But when I saw and heard it in the final scene of the "Cruel Intentions" (remake- don't even get me started on that!) where Buffy finally gets busted for her cross necklace full of cocaine? Adored it. Perfect.

3.) Dire Straits: "Walk of Life"
In all honesty, I don't like their music at all. The only thing I really liked about that whole "Money for Nothing" song was my beloved Sting singing the "I want my MTV" line in the background (mmm. mrow). So this follow-up "hit" sucked even more...until I saw the video.  Big bunch of sports highlights with people messing up royally until the last verse when they finally get it right. Apparently if you give me some sports highlights, I'll like your song.

4.) Bette Midler: "Wind Beneath My Wings"
Yawwwwwwn. Borrrrrrring.  That is, until I watched "Beaches" over and over again, cried my eyes out repeatedly and hoped -- and finally found-- friends that made me understand the song.

5.) House of Pain: "Jump Around"
Obnoxious as hell and from a no-talent group. .Unless you're a Badger fan and Camp Randall at the University of Wisconsin literally *shakes* between 3rd and 4th quarter when this fires up and everyone's jumpin'? You won't get it.  But I do now.

6.) David Bowie: "Golden Years"
I adore this man to no end, but I absolutely hated this song until "A Knight's Tale" when Heath Ledger danced to it.


7.) David Bowie: "Changes"
Seriously. People really must have overplayed David Bowie for me to hate his songs this much (I do truly adore him! Jareth! Thomas Jerome Newton!  *sigh*  Err...I digress). But at the beginning of "Breakfast Club"? Perfection.

Yours

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