Scruffy The Legend

A cat of course. Chicken is a feral kitten we adopted when he was a few weeks old. Karen named him Chicken because he was afraid of everyone and hid under beds (Just like Sir Prize used to do when we first got him). He was kept locked in our bedroom at all times when Ruby and Snowball arrived because we thought a Beagle would certainly hunt and kill a kitten. We were not sure about Snowball who was supposed to be a Bichon. We knew Narla also would not appreciate a kitten. After we returned Snowball to the shelter because he was fixated on killing Narla (see my post of coronation of a queen ), we gradually let Chicken out of the bedroom to begin interacting with Ruby and Narla.

It turned out that, unlike every other cat I have known, Chicken had no innate fear of dogs. He immediately fell in love with Ruby and spent much time hanging under her chin by clasping his paws around the back of her neck. Ruby did not seem pleased or displeased by this state of affairs. Maybe Chicken has a remora (those little fish that attach themselves under a shark’s mouth) in his remote ancestry. At first Ruby’s expression seemed to ask us to get this thing off her – not that it was doing her any harm – but what did she need it for? As time passed, the two became good friends and played together much as an adult dog and a puppy might play. Chicken would bite Ruby about the face and Ruby would retaliate with bites to Chicken’s neck and body. Considering that Ruby’s mouth was a big as the whole cat, I was very impressed and proud of Ruby for being able to do this without hurting the cat. We did become concerned that Chicken would eventually, by accident, scratch one of Ruby’s eyes. The play periods usually occurred several times a day and did get a bit rough on occasion. Although against our usual way of doing things, we had Chicken declawed to prevent injury to Ruby. For me, declawing a cat – even and indoor cat - just doesn’t sit well with me, but I felt we had to do it.

Now Chicken has grown into a very large cat. However without his claws, he is totally defenseless. Enter Charlie. Charlie is still not sure exactly what to make of Chicken. He is not exactly sure what is the difference between Chicken and a squirrel or between Chicken and a squeaky toy. I don’t really like the way Charlie looks at Chicken or the way he chases him. It is different from the way Ruby does these things, but thankfully also different from the way Snowball would have done these things. Charlie is not fixated on the cat and does not want to kill him. I am just not sure how rough his play will be once he really decides to play with Chicken. I am not sure he knows how to bite a cat playfully and softly the way Ruby does. Chicken notices the same things I do, and does not attempt to do anything like hang from Charlie’s face.

Chicken is cautious with Charlie, but still is unaware of any real danger. Chicken, again unlike other cats I have known, has no apparent innate ability to or desire to protect himself (with or without claws). He has never hissed, taken a strong swipe at someone, arched his back, or raised the hair on his back and tail. Even when Charlie is right over him, giving him a predator’s stare, Chicken only playfully extends a paw onto the dog’s nose.

2009, 2009 February cat, Charlie, Chicken, Ruby