Working On ~~~

Sorry to be so late. I had an issue with a barn cat today. His name is Scaredy and for good reason ~ he's an absolute TWAWT!

So named because he's a barn cat that refuses to let anyone near him, although he is one to come round my patio door, begging. As you know my door(s) are open to all comers, within reason. Well, the usual barn cats came in this morning and as I quickly found out so did Scaredy. He came in (for the first time ever and probably the last) without me knowing it. It poured buckets of rain half the day so I closed the glass patio door. Lord God! All hell broke loose when Scaredy realized he couldn't get out!!!

He must have slammed into the patio door four times and the front window at least twice while running ramshackle through the house. Stupid cat smashed his nose up pretty good in the process. That other black cat did the same but Merrill was able to check him out and he wasn't hurt to the point where he would not recover; I'm sure the same will be said of Scaredy. Anyway, he managed to crawl under the fridge and I had to drag that out and get him free... Then he got himself trapped behind the big brown chair next to the patio door so I could finally shoo him outside. Haven't seen him since! Still have two greys and the black one in though, barn cats all and all as scared, at first as he is. They quickly learned the benefits. 

Today is our 10th Anniversary ~~~

Dumb cat!

Catspaw

A Tribute to Cats Who Served During Wars Part 2

I wanted to share this story separately because its so sad and I do have a few pictures to go along with it that are amazing.

Cannon at Fort McAllister

Tom Cat was a Confederate mascot during the American Civil War of the 1860's. Fort McAllister was an important part of a defensive ring that protected the Confederate city of Savannah, Georgia. Built of earthwork fortifications, sods and mounds of mud from Ogeechee river, the men who defended her lived inside of these mods, underground in bunkers. The thick earth and moss covered walls were inordinately efficient at absorbing cannonballs the Unionists launched at them. As a consequence, the fort held out far longer than did its more modern sister Fort Pulaski, which was taken by Union forces in 1862. 

Fort McAllister, Confederate City of Savannah, Georgia in 1862  This is where Tom Cat would run when the battle raged; in, around and through these same mounds.

Fort McAllister's earthen defense in 1864, a closeup.

Confederate Gun @ Fort McAllister 1864

Tom Cat was a big black cat who was cherished by the entire garrison. He would dash headlong on the defenses during an assault, successfully evading the hail of musket fire and cannonballs as they flew overhead. Pictured are the defenses Tom Cat tore across.

Tragically, on March 3^rd 1863, Tom Cat took a stray bullet that ended his life during a series of tenacious naval assaults on the Fort by Union forces. After the decapitation of the Fort's Commander, Major John B. Gallie during the second attack, it was found that Tom Cat was the only Confederate casualty accounted for during the whole seven hours of bitter onslaught. He was laid to rest with full military honors. In the official report his death was disclosed to General Beauregard; the loss of Tom Cat was violently felt by the defenders but, honoring Tom Cat's memory, they held the fort til close to the end of 1864, after which Fort McAllister fell to the land forces lead by General Sherman as the final obstacle in his 'March to the Sea'. 

Tom Cat's Memorial Plaque

Today no cats live in the park grounds of Fort McAllister. Purchased by Henry Ford in the 1930's and opening to the public as a historical park after considerable restoration, workers have consistently refused to spend the night because of bizarre and unrecognizable noises. Visitors, staff and those who role play the battles of the 1860's have told of seeing a black cat bolting along the ramparts. Tom Cat has been seen in some of the rooms and gazing out towards the Ogeechee. There are those who have felt Tom Cat as a furry, arched back that rubbed against their legs. In the 1960's, approximately 150 years after his passing from this world, visitors and groundsmen reported observing what looked to them like a headless body in full Civil War-era officer's uniform striding the bulwarks. Is it Major Gallie and Tom Cat continuing to mount a watch at the Fort they safeguarded nearly 150 years ago?

Major John B. Gallie, Confederate Solider, 1864

We hope so.

Catspaw

Mr Sneakers, the Newfoundland Mouse, meets Moggy

Mr Sneakers had free run of the house when the human wasn't looking of course. He'd been silly enough to be seen the last time when he had paused from his mad dash about the place to clean his paws and she spotted him, commenting to her friend that he was cute she dubbed him: Mr Sneakers.
Miss Z’s confidant warned that where there was one, others would follow. How do they know these things? After that the conversation turned frightful; the companion suggested a CAT and knew a neighbor who had one to spare. ‘No’ came the answer, then she'd have to look after kitty!
When Mrs X visited again a week later, she found Miss Z hiding little traps all over the house. A few in the basement, a couple upstairs, several in the attic. Mr Sneaker found them all and cautioned is mates to avoid them.

“What on earth...” stammered Mrs X.

A troupe of mice were rampaging full tilt across the attic floor.

“Oh, state the obvious.” Miss Z remarked at the doleful expression of her cohort. “The traps are humane and I’m sure to collect them all and put them back outside where they belong very soon now.”

Looking doubtful, Mrs X suggested again that a small furred animal was the answer to the herd now amassing in the attic and mumbled again, ‘Where there was one...’

A loud knock came to the door and Miss Z responded. ‘Hello to the neighbor’, at least it would have been if he hadn’t brought Moggy with him. As it was cold outside and he couldn’t very well stand in the doorway allowing a draft to invade so she shooed him in.

“I heard you had mice so I brought Mog over to help out, he’s an awful good mouser.”

Ears attentive to the small scuttling coming from overhead, Moggy hit the floor and bounded straight up the stairs in a flash. Silence ensued. The three in the living room followed the sound of the creaking floor boards as the rodents were hunted. The wait seemed interminable until that wily tabby came slinking down into the room again as if nothing had happened. Indeed, there was some confusion as to whether anything was amiss in the attic so Mr. Neighbor volunteered to take a peek for the sake of the ladies wits. Cautiously he crept the narrow stairwell that led to the dimly lit chamber above and hesitated at the top. In the distance, toward the back of the alcove, an army of dormice were gathered. There seemed to be at least ten. Mr Neighbor duly informed the ladies.

Mr Neighbor positively insisted to Miss Z that it was absolutely no trouble at all for him to part with Moggy, then he was gone. Mrs X smiled in satisfaction.

After that Moggy was always about the house hunting Mr Sneaker and his accomplices; the tabby had a habit of lurking that would startle Miss Z every time she walked into a room. It was a deadly game of old fashioned cat and mouse but Mr Sneakers was clever; when the cat was searching the attic, he would led them into the basement and when Mog padded into the furnace room, the gang would sprint to the upper story. This continued, to the discomfiture of Miss Z, for over a week until she could not tell where the two parties actually were and at times both mice and cat seemed very confused themselves. Then one afternoon a series of wild little squeaks resounded from the cellar.

Miss Z took an awful start at the unexpected sound, hurried to the stair and snapped on the light. As she carefully descended Mog was right behind her tiptoeing all the way. There, in the corner, where she had left two open traps were the mice. Five in each humane trap, very agitated and jumping at the sides. They quieted at the stealthy approach of Moggy.

Miss Z stooped and raising the cages remarked, “Well, that’s that then. Outside you go.” And outside they went.

That very day Miss Z proudly announced to both Mr Neighbor and Mrs X when they came by to check on the situation, that the little rodents were decamped from her home. Moggy boastfully entwined all their legs as they listened intently to Miss Z’s telling of her story. She gave the impression that both factions had become baffled concerning who was where in the house in their efforts to either avoid altogether or to catch and eat; Miss Z summed up her tail expressing her sentiment that Mr Sneaker had become so confused that he led the rest to enter the traps by mistake to the happy conclusion of the whole episode.

Catspaw