Scout is one special cat. While I was stationed at Fort Riley and living in the barracks on post, we had a group of stray cats living in the boiler room. Sometime in the early, early spring of 2009, I had been walking home from my truck when I noticed a small bundle of fur rolling about under a tree. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be some stray kittens getting up to kitten shenanigans. Immediately, I went up to my room and found a Starkist tuna package and a plate, returned back downstairs, and left a pile of fish next to one of the boiler room's vents. This happened on a nightly basis for around a week until the cats were comfortable approaching me, but one little black and white tuxedo kitten always led the charge. He wanted that tuna, and was gonna make sure he got his fill before the rest of the litter dug in...
I continued through my days, dealing with my injuries from my deployment and seeing a social worker on a regular basis. She mentioned to me that it would be helpful towards PTSD treatment if I was able to take on a pet. I thought it would be nice to do just that, but barracks policy wouldn't allow it. So it was that the weeks went by, and eventually the Fort Riley animal control came by the barracks and removed all of the cats...
Then, while Becky was visiting me during Memorial Day weekend, we decided to drop down to the post PX for some light shopping. Outside one end of the building were dozens of animal crates, dogs, and a number of people. We couldn't resist the urge to check this out! As we walked through with carriers on either side, a black and white paw shot out of one and reached for my hand, with a familiar voice meowing in a protest... I looked inside and couldn't believe that this cat could be the same little one that had been so eager to get his fair share of the tuna, he had grown up so much! But after talking to the veternary techs there, they confirmed that he was one of numerous cats brought in from around the area by animal control. So it was that this tuxedo cat named came into our lives, with the name "Scout" springing to mind on our ride home. After all, Fort Riley is the home of the Calvary...
Scout's adoption went through without a hitch, and a few weeks later, he was traveling East on I-70, perched on one of our laps the whole way. His introduction to Becky's other cats was smoothe, and he quickly took his place as a member of the family. Moreover, while I was dealing with panic attacks or headaches, Scout was always there, my constant companion. Any time I would step outside into our garden, he would rush to join me. Brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed? Scout was there. Always with his characteristic yowl, he was quick to purr and even faster to flop on his side for some pets. And his affections were not only spent on us, in fact, he never met a person he didn't like. The comfort he brought in his wake was felt by my Grandmother during visits to her assisted living home. While she had fond memories of sitting in the yard with my Mother's cat, who looks quite similar to Scout (with a bigger vest, though), she eagerly welcomed visits from us and was always ready to smile at the sight of him. Scout's last visit to see Grandma was very close to the end of her life, and even under the effects of heavy pain killers and in the throws of terminal cancer, she brightened at the sight of him and even found the energy to exclaim, "It's my pussycat!"
When we discovered him in such bad shape last week, the implications struck our family with the force of a bomb. We don't want to lose him, but neither of us would suffer him to go through with invasive procedures that would hurt him further. We just want to express to Scout even a fraction of the warmth and love that he brought into our lives, and if the fates see fit to bring him to an end, then we want to be there to keep him warm, happy, and well spoiled until he purrs his last.
Josh
For Scout's health updates, look on the right column or follow @ArtRaiser4Scout on Twitter.
