The Legend of Tombigbee the Cat

Mile marker 424 read the post as Nolan checked his watch that flashed 4:24 on the dot. Sometimes you are in the right place at the right time. We had a pick up later that evening 5 more miles down river. For the first time in weeks pure silence swept over the water and it laid flat like a soldier's bed sheet. We could hear our breath and feel the beat of our hearts as each paddle stoke glided through the water. We were the only thing moving within a beautiful picture of stillness.

The sound of a moaning toad belched off the banks as we drifted along a straight away. As we approached closer the sound resembled quite that of a deranged cat. And that it was. Short high pitched groans with barely a second between each. He finally became visible poached upon a rock bank about 15 feet up - his tiny orange head and ears barely poking over the jagged stones. 

Implications of hunger were strong in the screeching calls of our wild friend. Nolan dug through our food bag for some pepperoni, surely cats like pepperoni. Drifting along the banks edge we tossed shniplets of spiced meat to the feline, but it might as well been invisible pepperoni. He raced down the banks to the shoreline and trotted along side our canoe, yelping for mercy. We threw more useless pepperoni, but to no avail.

Then the unthinkable happen. Maybe a half breed of a flying squirrel, the tomcat leaped from the edge, arms extended out like superman landing perfectly in the belly flop position on top the water. His legs turned like motors as he cut right over swimming up to the boat side. Nolan scooped the kitten up with his paddle and placed him back ashore. I couldn't paddle much, for imagining leaving the little guy was a heart-pierce. Surely he dove again and swam up and I called to Nolan to bring him aboard. "Embark little kitty for you now sail with us!" I hailed.

The furred sack of bones stood nimble in the bow of the canoe, lavishly devouring 11 pieces of the roni. A proper introduction was in store for Nolan as he sunk those razor sharp wildcat teeth into Nolan's hand. My wonder seized as laughter filled the stern of the boat. Nolan jumped up posted upon his seat like a gargoyle. "He drew blood," Nolan exclaimed as he tucked his knees to his chest and cover his feet. The comical nature was too much as a 135 pound man trembled at the pale 2 pound furry skeleton with oversized ears and a nub tail. Rabies was a concern, but my hysteria preceded. In Nolan's shoes I would've been shaking too. I tossed Nolan the medical kit to clear his battle wound.

The wet wad climbed his way back by me in the stern, purring his little motor, meowing like a veteran. Taking the appropriate cautions to my companion being viciously bit I prodded the cat and he rolled over to be pet! I had already been sick for a few days at this point and now Nolan is a contagion of rabies. We were the diseased ship floating off into the abyss. After the wounds were clean, it wasn't a question of do we keep him, but rather what do we name him. We looked up and down the desolate stretches of river, with not a soul to be seen. Tombigbee, appropriately so.

Tombigbee was a fixer-upper. We spent the next day picking over 150 ticks off him, hitching rides to the nearest faraway town for vaccines, getting him food and accommodating him to our lifestyle. Some hours later we hopped back into the canoe and away we went. The rest is history. Tombigbee is a proud canoe chap. When we pull over for camp he wanders not beyond a 100 foot radius. He sleeps in the hammock, alternating Nolan and I each night, and prefers to slumber on top our heads. On the canoe he runs a sequence of nap, eat, litter box, roll around, and repeat.    

Some things were meant to be. Surely we were not searching for an aquatic hitchhiking cat, he found us. And many things in life will find you, they don't always have to be sought out. The spice of life is in they mystery; saying yes to things out of your element. I never canoed before this trip and never started a charity event. This entirety has been the greatest challenge I've ever took on and in the most extreme conditions I've faced for such an extended period. And to make the stakes a little higher, I'm agreeing to teach and care for a kitten on the river. (certainly with Nolan's help). You don't need to know how to do something to be able and the only way you will know is if you try. Even if I fail, at least I can say I've tried something new. The greatest skills are learned "on the job training." Half of my plans for this trip were out the window on day 2. Life is a learn as you go kind of deal. Anyone who says they know whats going on is blowing smoke - we have no idea about anything! And that I promise you, is all the fun.