Martigny scratches baby wry

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Martigny scratches baby wry

Baby Wry in the emergency room, after Martigny scratched him.

The culprit. We still love her. I have given this more extensive coverage on the other blog, over the past three posts, and right now I just lack the energy to do it again.

You can find that coverage right here.

9 comments:

Parker said...: I'm sorry that Kalib had to experience all of that.
Martigny was probably startled and did what we kitties do...
See you next year!
Smoochies!; December 31, 2008 at 3:15 AM
Anonymous said...: We are very thankful Kalib's eye was not scratched. We know it was a reaction to being startled, but we still feel terrible for little Kalib. Children's skin is very resilient and perhaps there will be no scars to remind him of that brief encounter with the crash and Martigny. We will hope for that.

We wish you all a very Happy and Healthy New Year.; December 31, 2008 at 3:50 AM
The Island Cats said...: We hope that Kalib's run-in with Martigny does not leave any lasting scars...either physically or mentally....; December 31, 2008 at 7:09 AM
Daisy said...: I am so glad that little Kalib will be okay and his eye did not get hurt. I'm sure Martigny did not mean to cause harm.; December 31, 2008 at 9:51 AM
Zippy, Sadie, Speedy and M'Gee said...: We bet by the time the scratches heal both of them will have forgotten all about it. Probably well before that. Poor little guy, it was probably very scary for him. Happy New Year to all the Krackers...; December 31, 2008 at 12:18 PM
Unknown said...: Oh no! Sorry to hear about the accident. I hope that baby Wry would recover quickly and completely. Thank you for being kind and understanding to Martingny.; December 31, 2008 at 5:20 PM
The Activist said...: So sorry dear; January 1, 2009 at 4:36 AM
Kimo and Sabi said...: We read all about da incident - ouch! Happy New Year 2009!; January 2, 2009 at 6:59 PM
Anonymous said...: I am glad Kalib did not suffer any serious or long-term injuries. May he get well soon!; January 2, 2009 at 10:38 PM

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Due to an unfortunate series of events that beset me as a child, I grew up believing myself to be a despiser of cats. After I married, five children came to Sunflower and I, and when my two youngest, both daughters, would see someone giving away kittens in the parking lot of the local grocery store, they would beg, "Please, Daddy! Let us take home a kitten!"

With a smile, a tilt of the head and the bat of an eye, Tryskuit and Nabysko could charm just about anything they wanted out of me, but towards cats, my heart was hard. "No!" I would deny them, "Dogs are fine, dogs are good, but let just one thing be understood: in my house, there are no cats allowed!"

And then on a hot July day in Alaska, in the year 1991, a skinny kitten stepped out of the woods behind our house - quite literally, he stepped out of a dream and came to me, to beg for my ham. He relished the ham, but he did not care for the pickle, nor the mustard.

That cat stayed, and more followed. These are the Kracker Cats, and in this blog, the stories of all will be told. These will be happy stories, humourous stories, frustrating stories, sad stories, tragic stories. Readers - you who love cats - you will laugh, and you will cry!

To see all the Kracker Cats, both the original and contemporary, scroll down.

I travel a great deal, mostly in Alaska, but I wander into many other places as well. As my children grew, I was gone from home as much as not, sometimes more. When I was home, I would tell my children bedtime stories. By the time Kaboodle appeared at our house, the boys had outgrown these stories but my daughters still thrived on them.

Now, they insisted that every story that I tell be about a cat. So I made up some wonderful ones, right on the spot, and I was always as curious as they were to see how these stories would turn out.

Then one day as I was about to climb into my airplane and fly off to a village in the Alaska bush, Nabysko, the youngest, looked up at me and said, "Daddy! Write us a cat story while you are gone!"

So I did. Not long after, I happened upon a cat. I took its picture. I inquired about its history. When I returned home, I showed the picture to the girls, and told them what I had learned about the cat's history.

Ever since, wherever I go, I try to find and photograph a cat, and learn what I can about its history.

Hence, "Cats Met Along The Way." And always I keep in mind the wise admonition of Persimon Munk:

"Every cat has a story."

Charlie Chaplain, above, chosen at random, is just one of the hundreds of cats that I have met along the way, in every region of Alaska, 24 states, DC, four Canadian provinces, England, Russia and India.

And I will be meeting more, in many other places.

As my children grew, Sunflower was forever scolding me about all these lies that I told them. "You should write these stories down!" she insisted. I ignored this advice, but then, one summer, I decided to write down a few of the tails about cats that I had told to Tryskuit and Nabysko.

These are the stories that will appear in this section of the blog.

Above is an image, created by my talented niece, Amber Swallow, when she was still in high school, to help illustrate a story about Art, a cat who tried to fly his Catabria airplane over Denali.

If any of you southerners are confused by this word, "Denali," it is the name of the mountain that so many well-intentioned folk who don't know any better mistakenly call "Mt. Mc... Mt. McK... Mt. Mck... in... in.. le.." Oh, hell! I can't even say it! I'm not talking about a hamburger here! I'm talking about the highest mountain in North America, the mountain that rises higher vertically over the surrounding terrain than does any other mountain in the world.

I'm talking about Denali.