Tales from the Bark Side

By Keith Ross | The Daily Journal

Published Saturday, June 7, 2008

Welcome back to the bark side of life here in Ottertail where another gray morning greets the day, erasing the memory of a warm and glorious afternoon just hours ago.

The ebb and flow of spring-time weather is like the ocean; beyond our comprehension and control. Speaking of flowing, last Sunday afternoon, I observed a curious sight that took place on the Otter Tail River where it flows into Otter Tail Lake. A Great Blue Heron was sitting precariously on a rock next to the mouth of the lake; sitting in a boat, no more than 15 feet from the magnificent bird, were two fishermen. The heron evidently didn't mind sharing his fishing spot with two humans, and the men in the boat were statue still in their pursuit of a fish themselves. I called it common water, co-existence in silent splendor.

This week we have another two-part tale and this one is from Lynn Mathewson of New York Mills. When you name a cat “Troubles,” that's enough to get most people's attention. Here's Lynn's tale.

“I have sent you a story about our cat, Radar, who likes to steal things and I sent you a picture of Radar and Troubles on a ladder (in which you dubbed them the flying Mathewsons). But this is a story of Troubles.

I am sure you may find some instinct as well as logic in his story. The reason I wanted to share this with you and the readers is because we lost Troubles to cancer this last week. He was diagnosed with a very aggressive type of cancer in June last year.

When Kenny got Troubles almost 11 years ago, he was so small he fit into Kenny's shirt pocket. Kenny fed him every few hours with an eye dropper full of milk. He always was a smart cat and of course mischievous, hence the name.

This is the part that I think may be logic. He watched Kenny open the door to go outside often enough, that he would walk over to the door and stand on his hind legs pawing at the door trying to open it.

Kenny put a choker and leash on Troubles and would take him for a walk around the block. All you had to do was tug on the leash and say “This way Troubles,” and he would walk with you. He loved being outside. He was declawed and still could climb 5 feet up into a tree.

He caught several squirrels, rabbits and even a bird; all while on a rope tied to a stake.

When Kenny and I got married almost five years ago, I knew I was getting a loving husband and a cat. I had a cat myself at that time named Cleo. Both cats being male, even though neutered, could not get along. Cleo spent all of his time outside and came in for the occasional petting and of course, food.

Troubles would chase him from room to room growling, hissing and trying to hit him until Cleo would go to the door to be let out. He finally stopped coming back.

As a result of the cat problems, Troubles decided he didn't like me. He would growl and hiss at me. And if I got too close, he would swat at my ankles with his paw.

I let this go on for awhile and than decided he was not going to terrorize me. So one day I squatted down in front of him and as he was growling at me, I told him, “Go ahead make my day.”

He looked at me and turned around and walked away. We were friends after that. He would sit on my lap and tolerated all of my kisses and hugs.”

Thanks, Lynn, for a glimpse into the life of a cat lover. Next week, we will have the conclusion of “Troubles and Radar.”

If you have a tale that you would like to contribute to the “Logic vs. Instinct” contest, mail me at Keith Alan Ross, Richville MN 56576 or e-mail me at info@rosswoodkennels.com or phone me at 218-495-2195.

Keith Alan Ross writes from his home in New York Mills.