Smokey

I've talked a few times about the feral cat who allows us to live on the property. Her name is Smokey. Allan dubbed her that when he moved in, because of her coloring and because this is the home of Smokey Bear. (BTW, I have another little story about Smokey Bear which I'll tell at the end of this one.)

Now, when Allan bought his house, the previous owner left a bag of cat chow inside the door. It was obvious that the house came with a resident cat. Sure enough, after a few days, a pretty grey striped cat showed up, meowing, but keeping her distance. Allan gave him a little food, and a deal was struck . . . for the price of a cup of cat food each day, she would allow him to stay.

After a time she began to allow him to pet her, occasionally at first, then more regularly with time. Allan decided that he should have a name to call her, and "Smokey" seemed to be the right one.

After my arrival, poor Smokey (Cat) had another adjustment to make. Or rather several. First, I was a new and thus threatening human, and I brought with me three nosy, sniffing dogs. Oh, my goodness! We hardly saw her for the first couple weeks, but gradually, she learned that none of us were going to actually harm her, and she quit running away from us, but just stood looking at us with her back slightly arched as if to keep warning us that SHE owned the place and to not forget it!

Now Smokey and I get along fine. This is probably because I feed her as often as Allan does, and I'm always ready to pet her a few times while she eats. She often greets me and the dogs when we go out, and sometimes walks along with them as they find the perfect place to potty. She usually recoils and looks rather horrified when they take a dump! I suspect she can't believe those "animals" don't cover their stinky messes!

These days, Smokey even lets me take an occasional picture. Now she doesn't like the noise that the camera makes, that little click, and it always makes her scoot away. But I was able to get these two recently before she took off.





Here she is a few weeks ago, before the snow covered everything up. Isn't she a pretty one?










And this I took just a couple days ago. She isn't scraggly like most feral cats, so we suspect that she keeps two homes! Two-timer!!!









Now, about that other Smokey story . . .

Shortly after I posted about this being where Smokey Bear was found, I got the following information in an email from a cousin. Her father was my late husband's uncle.

Also, I forgot to tell you when I read your blog about "Smokey the Bear" Did you know that Daddy was working for the Forest Service at that time? He was on the fire when they found "Smokey" and saw him when they brought him into camp. They found him holding onto a tree and his paws were burned a little, but otherwise he was fine. He said the little guy was so hungry, the men fed him too much and made him sick. Anyway, I have heard that story so many times, I have passed it on to my children and grandchildren. Now, you know the rest of the story!

Wow! I'd never heard that story! What a treasure of family history to have in the lore! Thanks, Belinda!

Have a good week, everyone!