Labor Day. The Bravada died at 237,000 miles. We waited four hours for a wrecker. Usually AAA is great. This day we were west of Batesville. A wrecker company called from Tupelo. Where we were? They were at Pear Rd. Never heard of it. I let AAA know that hauler would be driving 200 miles. They found one closer. When they unloaded it, Buckshot jumped out of the car. The two young men jumped out of the hauler to help round him up. JB left my door open and quietly rode around the lot until Buckshot jumped in. He'll go anywhere with Dad.
The Bravada rests quietly in our backyard. But all has not been well in the neighborhood. Last Thursday night, a pack of four large dogs mangled our housecat. Schatzie had his claws and was street smart, but he was no match for a pack of jaws. Our neighbors heard the ruckus and ran to the door. He shooed them away and found Schatzie unable to move. He quietly left him at our front door. It grieves me we didn't hear it. Fri.morning Dad heard him. Something wasn't right. He always came to the side door. He couldn't move his back legs. There were three wounds on his sides. I laid on the floor with him and gently stroked him until we could get him to the vet.
Schatzie had a puncture wound where a dog had bitten him over his back and two more wounds. Per Dr. Landess, he has had other mangled cats brought in. "The dogs are packing." Schatzie would be paralyzed, He was the gentlest, quietest kitty for the eleven years we had him. I can't write this without tears. I held him when Doc put him to sleep.
Schatzie was a rescue kitty from the Omaha Humane Society in NE. When Krysia went to find another cat, Schatzie adopted her. He didn't ask for much. Science Diet soft chicken cat food was his favorite, and occasionally tuna. Give him a scratch, a brushing, and a quiet, secret place to nap, and he was happy. He often curled up on a kitchen chair.
Memorial Day 2012, Buckshot alerted me to black cat on the drive. I thought it was just a stray. Buckshot knew something was wrong. It was the first time I heard him bark and growl. I looked and it was a panther with his sights on Schatzie. I opened the back door and Schatzie shot in. He rewarded Buckshot by leaving him a little catfood on his plate every day.
Madchen is our other Maine Coon Mix from the same Humane Society. Schatzie was black and tan. She is orange with a white ruff, about 20 lbs. and looks like a Norwegian Snow Cat. It was love at first sight. They snuggled together and groomed each other. I saw her put her paw across his back and lick out his ear. He squirmed, but she held him tight. Yes, she was the bossy one. Now she's the lonely one that sleeps close to me.
We buried Schatzie overlooking the Mississippi River, and left a sizeable rock to mark his grave.
I wrote a letter to the editor of the Press Register in Clarksdale. The vet said other people had brought in dog-mangled cats. "They're packing," he said referring to the dogs. The neighbor ID'd two of them we're familiar with. I wrote that we are concerned for other small or leashed animals, children and adults. We have a lot of runners and walkers in town. We hope the dogs are caught and taken to the Shelter. Madchen doesn't go out at night anymore, neither does Buckshot leashed. We look around before we leave the house.
I ache for Schatzie. Maybe we were supposed to sleep through it. We might have run out and been mangled, too. So much for life in Clarksdale, MS where we have more than gangs to worry about.
2014 Red Convertible Travel Series
Labels: Clarksdale Press Register, gangs, Maine Coon cats, MS River, Omaha NE Humane Society, Pet death, Rescue Animals, Science Diet cat food, stray dogs packing