THE HAPPY HAT

The Navy had been good to her and for her. She never found a man she would consider for a lifetime mate but she did have occasional romantic encounters. I am human after all. What was she looking for in a man? Was it someone like her father? She decided to leave it up to God. Love would come when God intended it to happen. In the meantime the Navy provided a good life and safe haven for her. She liked being in charge and welcomed the assignment for managing the cast material disposal as well as cast changes from the Vietnam wounded warriors. It added more purpose to her life as a Navy nurse and owner of her giant male cat named Bork.

Bork was a Maine Coon Cat she had found as a two month old kitten at the humane society when she was first assigned to Queens Naval Hospital over two years ago. Skagan had gone there after she found evidence of a mouse in her condo unit. The condo owner’s association was aghast.

“We don’t have a mouse problem just like we don’t have a roach problem. Have you seen any mice?” The obese retired realtor scratched his left armpit.

“No but I am familiar with their droppings and what a mouse nest looks like.” Skagan was repulsed by his odor and appearance. “We need rodent pest control in my apartment.”

“Set a trap and bring me the mouse corpse and we’ll convene the association to take further action.” He burped after the response.

Skagan was not one to wait. She was a “take immediate action person”. Captain Skagan had always advised at times of action commitment to “Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead.” The only two kinds of pets allowed in the condo without condo association permission were birds and cats. She went to the humane society.

“We only have kittens for adoption Ms Skagan.” The light blue uniformed worker had a soft voice.

“I want a guaranteed mouser.”

The humane society young woman showed her the available kittens. “They all have had their shots, been de-fleaed and have been neutered. All cats are mousers, Ms Skagan. Why don’t you handle a few and make a choice.”

Skagan had picked up and petted each one looking into their eyes and scratching their heads. One long-haired cat and much larger than the other 2-month old kittens held onto her hand and put his mouth on her fingers without biting or breaking skin.

“I like this one. He’s assertive. I like assertive.” She looked at the card giving a name, breed and birth date. “Bork? What kind of a name is Bork? And what does MCC stand for.?”

“Bork is the name given to him by our superintendent. She said it was the name of her favorite professional wrestler. MCC is for the breed. Bork is a Maine Coon Cat. They grow to a larger size than a tabby cat.”

Each year Skagan sent out a Christmas card with a picture of her and Bork on it. They were fast friends and the apartment was de-moused while Bork was maturing as a feisty kitten. Bork was now 25-pounds and his shaggy dark brown fur added to his gigantic appearance. The litter box was in the laundry room and his food plates were in the pantry. Bork slept in a crate with the door slightly ajar in case a nocturnal rodent appeared. There hadn’t been any mice or other critters for 2-years now. However, Bork was aggressive to any unknown visitor such as a plumber or maintenance person. At such times Bork would be relegated to his crate. Once she had forgotten and the television installer man had gone screaming out of her condo with the huge Bork in hot pursuit.