Scuttle

Joanne's parents lived in East Los Angeles during World War II. A number of cats and dogs came into their lives. Joanne was fond of them all, but she established a special rapport with a female cat named Scuttle. Joanne was Scuttle's special person. That's not always comfortable.

Scuttle turned up pregnant, as female cats often do, and chose the family linen closet as her place to deliver. Joanne was attracted to the closet by Scuttles noises. She found the cat in mid-delivery and Scuttle promptly grabbed her hand with both paws. She took a forefinger in her mouth, but didn't bite hard, just held it. When Joanne tried to withdraw, Scuttle bit down a little harder. The cat just wanted the girl there in her time of need.

Scuttle delivered a litter of kittens. A little time passed and the family decided to visit their mining claim on Paiute Mountain. With the gasoline rationing during the war, trips to the mountain were very rare, only twice a year.

The cabin had been shut up for quite a while. Whatever the mice could get into, they had gotten into it. Fortunately, the Heysers had brought along fresh provisions. They got the cabin opened up, a fire going in the fire place to take the chill off, and eventually the entire family went to bed.

That's when Scuttle came into her own. There were mice all over the cabin. They had multiplied during the war years. As far as Scuttle was concerned, it was a kitty cat heaven. All night long she busied herself. People heard her. Scramble-scratch-scramble-scratch-squeak-squeak-THUMP!

The next morning all of Scuttle's babies lay on their backs, their kitten bellies distended and stretched to the fullest. They were so full of mice they couldn't eat. Not only that, every member of the family had a dead mouse on their pillow. Once her babies had enough and she was full, she didn't see why she shouldn't share the bounty. Everyone had a mouse on their pillow, except Joanne. She had three.

It isn't always comfortable being a cat's special person.