Thu, Mar 28, 1:11 PM CDT

Did Somebody Say Scoop?!

Photography Animals posted on Mar 03, 2010
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Description


'Did somebody say Scoop?!' You have to say it with an opportunistic lilt in your voice. Any word which pronounced with the 'oo' phonic would be as good as a summons and bring her to you with the complete expectation of your total, undivided and perpetual attention. Or food. Or both. Maybe some tuna too, 'Yes, give me tuna!' Gruff, yet lovable Scoop. The burlesque queen of kitties. It was wise to never sit in her chair on a sunny afternoon, otherwise you would be crossly scolded for your blasphemous transgression. And believe me, she just got louder the more you ignored her. From her grunts, to her stomping, to the "wrestling" matches during 'The Daily Show' (she is more important than the TV you know), to the late night (15 second) trysts with her boyfriend (Dusty), Scoop was more than just a any old calico but a fully functional, larger that life character who was only constrained by her physical dimensions. She even had a tail. Scoop loved the outdoors. Well, outdoors on the front porch during clear summer evenings anyways. It was on such nights that her remarkable ability to control gravity was regularly on display. Not wanting to be taken in for the night, Scoop would increase her already considerable body mass in order to thwart my efforts to pick her off the ground. A few petulant meows were thrown in for good measure. I was always amazed at how she would always slip out of my hands and plop right back where I found her - dirty look and all. Well, after all there was too much fun to be had on such nights. Scoop's favourite game was catching/tormenting the 'stupid' bugs that would just stray within snatching distance of her immovable mass. Who's a little predator? Moths were her favourite, those flappy little wings mocked her so. And moths just would never follow the rules, 'once caught don't try to escape and be dead already'. Scoop would often just sit there with a live moth in her jaws, not quite sure what to do next. I guess she was away for that lesson at Kitty School. But of coarse, Scoop was also a sun worshiper. Not just a student of the night, her favourite daytime activity (aside from pining for tuna) was napping. She preferred any south facing window available - preferably where it was quiet. There she oriented her belly to take in all those wonderfully warm rays. Life is rough. And did I mention that Scoop was the feline world's greatest Andy Barrie impersonator. For those who don't know, Mr. Barrie is the recently retired host of Toronto's most popular morning radio programme 'Metro Morning' on CBC. Like so many in Southern Ontario, I woke up every weekday at quarter to seven to his voice. On the weekends however, Scoop would fill in by climbing on top of my clock radio and fake the traffic report. This was of coarse a clever but hopelessly transparent effort to get me out of bed so that I (and no one else mind you) could feed her. And if her mimicry failed to rouse me, she would just poke me with her cold wet nose - over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. Co-incidentally, Scoop passed away the very day Mr. Barrie retired his post at Metro Morning on the 1st day of March 2010 AD. We estimate that she was at least seventeen or maybe eighteen years of age at the time of her passing. And almost up to the very last day, she was always her beloved snarky self. She will be much missed by her adopted family. Scoop: The cat so nice, we fixed her twice.

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