Our friend Ken G is a retired veterinarian. Years ago, Mike and I were looking for a cat for hunting camp. Ken had a litter of kittens he was trying to get rid of. "I lopped off most of their tail," he told us. "When people come in, I tell them these kittens MUST have some Manx cat in them, look at the short tails." The kittens flew out the door. We had to have one!! Our short-tailed tabby cat was named Jynx.
Some at hunting camp thought this was a very bad name, however, Jynx made the trek into camp and took right to living in the back country. The effort to find and kill elk did not seem to be affected by a cat named Jynx. We put him in a cat carrier, strapped him atop a good mule, securing the cage down tight with strands of orange bale string, and off we all went, down the trail, into the wilderness for the four hour trek into camp.
Jynx was perfectly happy atop his high perch until we dropped down the switch backs above Grizzly Creek. The loads packed atop mule's backs would shift forward and their steps hit hard down the steep trail. Poor Jynx didn't have much to sink his claws in and we would hear him contest with a "Meow", "Meow" down the hill. His disconsolate cry's timing matched the mule's step all the way down the hill.
For six years Jynx made the trip in and out of Enos Hunting Camp. As the season came to a close, tents coming down and the camp flattening into piles of gear married together by pack bags and weight measurements, we would worry every year about Jynx leaving, gathering him up with a sigh of relief that last morning packout.
Mike and I retired from the hunting camp life bringing Jynx with us to relax comfortably in our Hoback Junction home. Perched atop a hill, Jynx uses the dog door to venture out and see what he can find. Jynx has amused us with gifts of live chislers, half eaten chislers, half eaten chipmunks, and parts and pieces of said critters on the floor to step on. This is very disturbing when one's feet are bare.
I watched Jynx catch a hummingbird in flight, perched on the BBQ grill just below the hung hummingbird feeders. I was not impressed. Fortunately, Jynx did not make a habit of bird catching. He seems to prefer the rodents.
This weekend, our neighbors reported seeing a red fox right up by our house. When I got home, Jynx was no where to be found. A million times, I have written off Jynx as dead. This time, I was sure. Jynx was gone. I would find tabby-colored hair on the ground somewhere - up behind the house in the choke cherry bushes probably. I reported to Mike that Jynx had finally met his maker, food for a hungry fox. And then, there he was, sacked out in the chair, out of sight and then discovered! Jynx lives on!
His ears were cold the night before last. He looks tired and miserable. I whipped up an egg yolk and he would not even lick it off my finger. Jynx, I thought, is getting ready to die. Poor old cat. I expected to see him curled up in his cat-hair lined cat bed in the morning, dead. Nope. Jynx was out in the living room. Stretched out and still alive.
And then yesterday afternoon I came home and found this! Jynx lives on. Good kitty. Chipmunks are fast. This is at least the 20th he has brought in this year. Look hard, see dead chipmunk!
Not bad for a cat who has to be at least 18 years old! Jynx, the best cat we will ever have (because there will be NO cat when Jynx dies!). An ode to Jynx, the not-really-a Manx cat-cat!
