Lazarus & Maggie

My father had a penchant for naming his pets with unusual names.  His childhood cat was named Stalin for no apparent reason.  Later when he moved out to the farm there was a whole family of barn cats but the dominant male was a huge black beast that Dad named Lowenstoff, who knows why.  The last cat he named was a black ragamuffin of a cat with long black hair that would come off in huge tuffs, trailing behind him like a black mummy, hence he became known as Lazarus.  Lazarus was aptly named because he would wander off the farm for weeks at a time and the family would assume that he was dead, only to find him on the deck waiting for his breakfast one bright morning.

       Lazarus was the sole survivor of the barn cats and had to his meals on the back deck of the house in solitary style.  It wasn’t long, however, before the magpies discovered the plate of food and after Lazarus had finished his meal they would come down and eat up the rest.  Lazarus would watch them tolerantly and then wander off to hunt gophers.  The magpies eventually became so aggressive that they would peck on the tin plate if the food wasn’t put out at supper time.  My mother would go and put out a bit of cat food for them even if Lazarus wasn’t around.

       Then one day my mother saw a most amazing scene at the edge of their place.  Lazarus had been cornered by a coyote on the very edge of the cliff and he was either facing the coyote or it would be over the cliff into the creek below.  The coyote was moving closer and closer when suddenly several magpies came swarming down and began attacking the coyote.  They continued to swoop down, pecking at the hunter until eventually he turned tail and ran.  Mom firmly believes that they realized that Lazarus had been their friend and they protected that friend.

       Lazarus lived another day!