I would like to talk about my favorite cat. Of course, Lizzie is my favorite cat, aren’t you Lizzie, that’s my pretty girl, now come out of the garage.
Now that the pleasantries are over, my favorite cat (not currently alive) was Scamp, or Scamper. Scamp was really my grandmother’s cat but when she died in 1972, we inherited him. If I remember correctly, Scamp was the son of our (inherited cats) brother and sister cats Tinker and Sam (I know, ew). Scamp was not very bright, we assume it was due to his parental heritage, but of any cat on the planet, a not so bright one was perfect for a house with three daughters living in it who only want to be mamas.
Scamp was a Siamese. Siamese cats are known for being sleek animals with a reputation for having a bad temperament and a loud vocal range. Scamp was the opposite of all three of these traits. Scamp probably weighed over 12 pounds, his belly could drag the ground. He was as gentle as a caterpillar. And, although he could be loud at times, he generally did not make a noise. His only vice I recall, was that he liked to claw the fabric on the furniture. (Mom eventually solved this issue by purchasing wooden framed furniture.)
Scamp liked (no, really, he liked it. Okay, Maybe I lied, maybe he just tolerated it) to be dressed up. We would get all of our doll clothes and turn him into our baby for a day. I loved how he looked in the baby bonnet, dress and matching panties. What a doll.
Scamp died around 1983. We have yet to replace him with another cat like him The closest we came was with The Ghost of Elvis, I’ll tell you his story another time. For now, enjoy the spotlight Scamp, for now, then, go claw a sofa and take a long nap.