Scooter, the Old Seasoned Warrior

The two male cats battled like a spinning ball of electrified fur.  The whirling fury of tooth and claw tore across the ground, scattering pine-needles and dust. But a brief second passed, and suddenly the two feline adversaries froze in a still-life battle pose. Beaner lay on his back, bewildered and looking up at Scooter; and Scooter stood over him in a majestic stance of Lordly command, his right paw calmly fixed in the center of Beaner’s pink belly.

I moved quickly from one window to another in an effort to reach the door and end the match. The two must have surprised each other in the yard, evoking primitive territorial instincts that had erupted into a physical contest as to leadership.  “Have to be more vigilant,” I breathed to myself.

By this time I was outside the house and the warring cyclone had resumed.  I shouted for peace.  My angry voice forced the old Master of the forest, Scooter, to high-tale it for the wooded fringe. Meanwhile, Beaner, the new-comer, unsure what had happened, attempted to regain his cool. He succeeded remarkably well, and soon strode about aloof, perhaps assuming himself to be the new territorial master.

For several months thereafter, Beaner and Scooter staged these rituals of dominance on a number of occasions. In time they grew less frequent and less dramatic, and Scooter, for whom we’d always had the deepest affection and respect, began to give our place a wide birth. Whether Beaner proved a quick study and truly learned to gain the upper paw on Scooter, or whether it became simply too much bother for Scooter to show up for his regular food and cleaning, we never knew. One night he was present, eating on top the wood box where my wife would feed him and lay out bedding upon which he, it seemed, gratefully slept. Next day, he was gone, and didn’t return.

It’s doubtful that he still lives. He lead a rough life as a wild, domestic-breed cat. But his legend persists and his regal dignity remains an unflagging example of the qualities admirable in the cat: calm strength, self-sufficiency, economy, and grace. I still see clearly in my mind his penetrating, lion’s eyes of yellow, his shaggy, steel-gray fur, and his tall and self-assured gait, as he would walk from the woods towards the house, and patiently await our attentions.