We called them "Pookie Walks"

Re-introducing you to the best cat I ever had

In my March 26, 2022 Substack and again the next day, I introduced to you, my readers, a stray cat I had adopted while in Nashville, Tennessee. It’s time to tell some more of her story.

Shortly after we moved to Colorado, she started going on little walks with us around the campground (we were living in an RV). She loved exploring! As long as her big human was with her to protect her, she wanted to be outside with us.

This began at the city-owned RV park in Golden, where we would go out at night into the city park next door. I don’t have any pictures of that, because with her color pattern, she was well camouflaged and she would disappear. Or so I thought. About the time I would say, “Where’s Pookie?” she would appear in the darkness, walking right beside me.

So then we moved up to the Chief Hosa campground in the foothills of the Rockies, just off of Interstate 70 west of Denver. It was spring, wildflowers were growing in wild profusion (it had been an unusually wet winter; there was lots of soil moisture) and my lady and I took walks in a nearby meadow where I photographed the wildflowers. Pookie went with us:

Pookie, in a meadow of wildflowers, moments before she caught her first mouse.

When I rescued her, she had a hernia. That’s a whole ‘nuther story to tell later, but at the juncture of this photo, it had been a year and a half since her surgery. And at this moment, seconds after I took this photo…

She realized that it didn’t hurt any more to pounce. And she jumped into that tall grass, and caught her first mouse.

Here’s another shot of her, also taken at Chief Hosa on one of our Pookie Walks:

The fierce Jungle Beast, hiding from her prey

These Pookie Walks went on for that entire summer. By mid-July, we had moved to a new KOA RV park on top of a mountain above Central City, Colorado. I’m a Jeeper, and there were Jeep trails (basically, old mining roads) everywhere up there. Pookie insisted on going with us.

We eventually learned to trust her not to run away. We would go to some scenic spot, park the Jeep, and she would get out and explore. Mostly, she would sniff everything. Here we are on an old mining road above Central City:

A cat that loved Jeeping

Old 4WD road in the Colorado Rockies

She was so strange about it all. On the way to a 4WD road, while we were on pavement, she would complain. As soon as we got off of it and onto the rough stuff, she was happy. She would stand up in the seat and look out the window. But we couldn’t keep her out of the Jeep. As soon as she saw us getting ready to go somewhere, she was in the Jeep. And we couldn’t get her out of it until we went somewhere.

We never needed to put her on a leash. She had no desire to run off; she just wanted to 1) be with me, the human who had saved her life, and 2) sniff everything. When she was ready to go back home, she’d get back in the Jeep herself. Here’s another shot of her on the same outing as the previous two pictures:

Pookie, enjoying nature

She was the best cat I’ve ever had. She only did one Bad Thing her entire life, and it was around this time. Here’s her on a picnic table at the KOA, 8900 feet above sea level, where we spent that summer:

Catitude

It was here, about the time that this picture was taken, that we were eating some of the delicious wings (Chester’s chicken) that the Colorado’s Kroger-owned grocery chains (King Sooper’s on the east side, City Market on the west) makes. She grabbed one and headed under the Jeep with it, where she knew that us humans couldn’t reach.

And that was the only Bad Thing she ever did.

I have one more tale to tell here; there will be more later. One day, I was out at the edge of the RV park, photographing the town 500 feet below. Pookie, of course, came along.

Central City, Colorado. Site of Colorado’s first gold rush.

A raptor, whether an eagle or hawk I don’t know, was soaring above the town. The bird was about level with us. Now, I’m sure it wasn’t looking at us but Pookie wasn’t taking chances. Every time I moved, she moved. Every time the bird moved, she moved. She was keeping me in a direct line between her and the raptor at all times.

“How the hell does she even know this stuff?” I wondered. Soon, we wandered into a grove of little aspens, about a foot or two apart from each other. Too close for a hawk / eagle to swoop into with wings spread, and pick up a cat. At that point, she stopped keeping me between her and the bird.

An amazing cat. Very woods-smart.