The ninth life

A sad day for all of us who admired and loved Trapper. As a nineteen year old cat, or 114 cat-years old if you count 6 cat-years for each human year, Trapper was as personable as ever despite his diminishing size. Despite his increasing frail condition, he was hiking down the ledge, all 290 feet of it, to reach the lake and to drink what to him was the best water that a cat could drink. Jill helped him climb back up the ledge on his last two trips, reminiscent of those evenings when he would hide on the driveway at camp in the dusky time, waiting for Jill to come get him because it was time for him to be safely inside the cabin.

Trapper lived all his lives to the fullest. With his presence in the campyard for 15 years, he managed to touch many people's hearts as he would make his rounds of the cabins in the morning, jump up on the Sabotowan roof in the evening to catch bats and survey his kingdom, take a ride in the kayak or canoe for the adventure of it, stand and let a toddler pat him even though he was usually more stand-offish then most cats.

I suspect that Trapper lived 8 of his lives on this earth, and he lives his ninth life in our memories.

The autumn of the year is upon us as the rain keeps turning to snow making my daily excursions outside less comfortable and therefore fewer in number. It is much nicer to remain curled in a dark corner, cushioned by the pillow and blankets that Jill has put out for me. And to think I use to stay out of doors for hours at a time in this weather. Now the weasels and the chipmunks can be as daring as they want. I will stay warm and dry. Most of the time. I do hear a scrabbling outside the wall, a scurrying in the leaves that I may have to investigate. Perhaps it is time to step outside and get some air. Too bad Mick and Will can't join me. They would like it up here in the woods where their people had such a good time last summer.

Hello to all friends of Spencer Pond Camps

While Bob and Jill are reluctant to enter the electronic age, Trapper has decided to take matters into his own hands, so to speak, and try out a blog this winter. There is a snowstorm raging outside and Trapper is bored with fake mice and toys dangling on strings. He has promised to let Bob and Jill know how this experiment in blogging works so that perhaps, in the future, they will add their own comments as winter turns to spring and they return to the Camps for another season of hosting the nicest people in the world at the camps. So if you should stumble onto this blog and want to hear more from Trapper, let him know.