His name is Scat and his is big and ginger.
Eleven years ago he adopted us and our little house down by the lake.
We don't know where he came from - he simply followed Beth home one day.
Starved and lonely, he made himself at home upside down in front of the fire.
We named him Gwendolyn, after a character in a book about a stray cat named Scat, who eventually found a home and was renamed.
Then we discovered he was a he...
When I moved out of the little house by the lake into the big house overlooking the lake, I brought Scat with me.
Scat would have none of it, and returned time after time to the little house.
We realised that was Scat's home, so there he stayed.
Until now.
One afternoon a short while ago, Beth came to visit and asked if I would take Scat to live here once more.
I laughed and said no, we already have two cats and a dog!
And Eugene is not really an animal-lover.
Several days later, Bobby and Jenny began to plead with me to take Scat.
He is over twelve years old and began having accidents in the little house once the weather turned, and that did not go over well at all.
He didn't have a litter box in which to go, and he was loathe to do his business outside once the days drew shorter and the weather colder.
My heart went out to both Scat and the kids.
Well, I had to ask Gene the big favour - and he said yes!
He might not have as large a fondness for animals as I, but he does have a heart of gold.
Scat has been here for two weeks now and he has settled in quite nicely.
He and Tnu have playtime daily.
Usually, just after breakfast, they gallop noisily about the house, leaping, tumbling and bouncing from one piece of furniture to the other.
Smoke, who is at least eighteen years old and still going strong, pointedly ignores Scat, but I know he secretly likes the big orange guy.
Our dog, Tucker, loves all the cats, and I have an idea she thinks she's a feline of the canine variety.
Scat loves dogs.
I have been keeping Scat in the house for obvious reasons, but he escaped the other day, only to be rescued by Beth from his old haunt.
Today, when I experimentally opened the door to let him out, he poked his head outside, then turned tail and dove back into the warmth of the house.
Welcome home Scat!
