An Ode To Sophie, The World’s Greatest Tabster
Sophie, Constitutional Law Tutor: Cleveland,
Tennessee (2004)
As a
traditionalist, a defender of the tried and true against the new and untried, a
devotee of personal restraint when faced with overriding challenges, and a
defender of the inherited tradition, the present writer has been a critic of
change, especially dramatic upheavals, for all of his life. However, twelve years ago he was encouraged
to accept an addition to his family that changed his life.
By birth an agrarian, raised in
rural, Piedmont North Carolina, in what the eminent historian Clyde Wilson
describes as the Promised Land, old folkways persevere and nurture each
successive generation. In this world,
hunting dogs are one of the most valued companions a gentleman can have in his
life; for my family, our prized companion was the North American Beagle.[1] These creatures were a source of great
companionship and occasional sporting pride.
On the other hand, felines of all varieties were the most despised of
creatures, especially the domestic house cat.
As a young man, I shared this unfortunate bias, an error of my ways that
I eventually overcame. During my
childhood, only exceptional men of great perception, skill, and manly virtue were
not willing to succumb to this ideological worldview. Perhaps the greatest example of such a spoudias, or weighty man, was my
paternal grandfather, William Spencer Cheek, one of the last mountain men, a
native of Yadkin County, North Carolina, a center of the moonshining trade in
the 1930s, and the genesis of NASCAR.
Grandpa Cheek, the sort of fellow often also described as a “man’s man,”
was surprisingly a devotee of the American Domestic Shorthair, or the “tab cat.” He went to great lengths to care for his
cats, along with his other animals. The
seeds of this writer’s eventual feline redemption were planted early in his
life.
Most of childhood was spent unaware
of the beauty, grace, and love exhibited by felines. In fact, I could not fathom how a cat could
transform my life. Providentially, while
on a “sabbatical” from Duke Divinity School, I was given the opportunity to
serve as the research assistant to a remarkable scholar and lover of cats,
Russell Amos Kirk. As a leading political
thinker and man of letters of the 20th century, Kirk possessed many
friends and admirers. For Kirk, cats
were a special gift from the Divine, and to be protected and cherished. One of his friends, Thomas Stearns Eliot, composed
the great affirmation of the feline, Old
Possum's Book of Practical Cats, and this obviously influenced Kirk, and
eventually, your servant.
Guided by the inspiration of Grandpa
Cheek and Russell Amos Kirk, even though closed to the prospect of having a
feline in our house, some openness emerged after making a professional
transition to Lee University in Cleveland, Tennessee, an exemplary liberal arts
college. My wife, Kathy, convinced me that
we needed a cat. I was adamantly opposed
to the prospect initially, but my life experiences allowed me to consider the
possibility. In August of 2000 I walked
gently into a pet store on Keith Street in Cleveland, Tennessee, and a
beautiful tab cat kitten with white paws ran up to me without provocation; her
paws glistened in the bright lights of the store, suggesting she had chosen me
as her new factotum. Little did I know
that this kitten would change my life. In
a day or so we brought Sophie to our Georgia Bell Circle home. Sophie was an adorable kitten, not in the typical
sense that all kittens are adorable; she seemed to be able to discern your
attitude and you intentions, and responded in due course. At the beginning of her first night with us, we
placed her in the kitchen, and between the kitchen and the dining room we placed
an inflatable bed (vertically) so as to block her exit from the kitchen. Sophie cried and obviously wanted to spend the
evening with us, but she eventually settled down and we went to sleep. Much to our surprise and excitement, in
middle of the night, she was able to make her way into her bedroom, overcoming
the “great wall” we had placed in her way!
We quickly discerned that Sophie was unstoppable and unflappable, even
in the midst of difficult situations! As
she overcame her inflatable bed as barricade, she would overcome many
challenges during her twelve years on this earth.
No memory or accounting of the life
of Sophie would be complete without some mention of the special bond between
Sophie and Kathy. From the first time
they encountered each other, a union of spirit and affection was created. It is difficult to describe the connectivity
between these two living creatures, a bond that never dissipated during
Sophie's lifetime. In many regard,
Sophie should best be remembered as a feline genius. At many points in her life, she approximated
an understanding of human speech. In
addition to the spoken word, she was an expert at discerning human emotional
needs as well. She was a "two
person cat," with only a duo of real friends for the duration of her life;
it was a great honor to have been one of these persons, but I was the inferior of
the two friends in Sophie’s estimation.
Dynamic Duo: Kathy
and Sophie, Fort Walton Beach, Florida (c. 2001)
From an early age, Sophie was a
source of profound amusement, occasional bewilderment, and inestimable
joy. When only a few months old, and
still adjusting to life, we were visited by our longtime friends, the Teem
family. Our traditionally-designed house
contained a long hallway. During the
Teem visit, in the midst of a rambunctious series of movements, the
youngest Teem, Kaitlyn, and Sophie, ran into each other at full speed in the
middle of the long hallway without an exit of any sort. The culmination of the head-on collision was
the issuing of great shouts, and two living creatures making 180° turns away
from each other! Within a month or so
later, Sophie had her first encounter with another cat. Our dear friend, Dr. Mary Waalkes, brought
over her cat, John Wesley, named after the great Methodist evangelist, to meet Ms.
Sophie. Yet again, Sophie would
demonstrate, as she would on many more occasions, she was a two-person animal,
holding every other cat and most humans in great disdain.
Sophie was a great lover of all
games, but she had a particular preference for certain toys. By accident, we discovered that an old belt
renamed the “sneaky snake” would become Sophie's early favorite and lifelong source
of entertainment. She literally chased
the improvised snake without ceasing when it was used to imitate an actual
snake, often for hours, until both the snake enabler and the cat were
exhausted. She also loved small toy
rats, and for that matter, any object a person would want to throw, and she
would proceed to chase the object.
Unlike a canine, however, Sophie simply enjoyed the chase, and had no
interest in retrieving any object.
Within a year of her birth, we took
Sophie on her first sojourn. We traveled
to Fort Walton Beach, Florida, en route to visiting Angie, my stepdaughter, in
Tallahassee. In 2001, they were fewer
hotels willing to accommodate pets, but we hoped we could locate one
nevertheless. At the last moment, after
not securing a pet-friendly hotel, and having Sophie with us for the duration
of the journey, we faced the inevitable: a covert mission was the only course
of action. After being stowed away in my
gym bag, and with the mid-afternoon Florida temperature rising, we decided to take
her to our room. What ensued was a week
of feline hijinks, with Sophie scampering towards the door every time a housekeeper
came to visit; ostensibly, she only wanted to introduce herself to the maid. On several occasions, she tried to escape
from a second-floor porch and explore the ocean and the sand more fully. But this was not Sophie’s only trip to the
coast. Many years later we took Sophie to
St. Augustine, Florida, on our historical tour of Spanish missions and other
locales. After arriving in St.
Augustine—and much to our chagrin—we realized we had inadvertently chosen the
Daytona bike weekend for our visit.
Because of the overflow of bikers, many of the self-professed easy
riders were staying at our hotel in St. Augustine! Sophie immediately became ensconced on the
window ledge, scoffing at all varieties of bikers, from the ranks of counter
culture hipsters, to doctors, lawyers, and indian chiefs—all with the same level
of disdain. Sophie was not a good
traveler, but this did not prevent us from taking her on trips. She traveled to Ohio, North Carolina, and
many other places.
Sophie,
Mountain Cat: Reliance, Tennessee (2004)
In Sophie's third year, will we
moved to 600 8th Street NW in downtown Cleveland, Tennessee, just a
five block walk from Lee University (my employer) into a Craftsman
bungalow with asbestos shingles and a decorative metal roof, built during the presidency
of Woodrow Wilson. The bungalow had a
beautiful window seat in the front of the house, and Sophie located this perch
within a few minutes of initially touring the house. She found great enjoyment in watching the
cars, trucks, bewildered Lee University students, and others, pass by her
house. Regardless of the situation
outside, Sophie was impervious to the distractions of the world. The greatest challenges she ever faced were
her encounters with a militant mockingbird.
The mockingbird, often only a few inches on the other side of a glass
storm door, was the only animal to evoke a spirit of fear within Sophie. Kathy was completing her college degree at
Covenant College, often taking classes that did not end until late in the
evening. The ever prescient Sophie,
realizing her “mom” was away, would wait anxiously by the door for her safe return. Upon Kathy’s return, Sophie would become the
most excited creature God ever created!
Such was the bond between Sophie and Kathy. At this old house, Sophie experienced her
best days, spending many long days in front of the fireplace. She had already become a legend in our lives
and in the stories I regaled my students with great regularity!
In 2005 we returned to South
Georgia generally, and to Vidalia, specifically.
This move was Sophie's first extended sojourn out of Tennessee. We were able to hire our good friend and cat
whisperer, Dr. Mary Waalkes as well, so Kathy, Sophie, and I were reunited with
our pal Mary who had encouraged us so much in our cat pursuits. Mary was the only person outside of my wife
and me, who really understood Sophie, but this was an understanding not always
reciprocated by Sophie. On one occasion,
when we were out of town, we asked Mary to feed Sophie for us. On her way to church, Mary attempted to feed
Sophie. Much to her surprise, Sophie was
more interested in Mary’s ankle than the food.
From that moment on, Mary was always on her guard around Sophie, but
undaunted in her willingness to help with the wildcat. In March 2006, another cat, Mr. Macavity, decided
he would join our family. Sophie and
Macavity would never become best friends, although they reached a level of
détente, and they kept each other on alert at all times. Little Miss Sophie, or Sophirina, as we occasionally called her, was already a renowned
feline, and was even awarded the “pet of the week” honor in the Vidalia Advance Progress. After receiving this recognition, Sophie’s
picture and personage became even more well-known throughout all South Georgia!
Sophie, Local
Celebrity: Vidalia, Georgia (2007)
One of the most potentially dangerous
events in her life was her accidental visit to the attic in our old, restored house
in Vidalia. Against all odds, Sophie was
able to force her way into the attic during the heat of a South Georgia summer,
and upon escape, there was never an animal more happy to leave the confines of
a manmade purgatory.
In 2009 we moved to Athens, Alabama,
where I assumed the duties of the associate vice president for academic affairs
at Athens State University. Athens was a much colder environment than Sophie had
ever encountered before. She fared well,
even with her erstwhile companion, Mr. Macavity. Unfortunately, she continued to be plagued by
feline calicivirus, a disease that
would eventually bring about her demise.
It is terrible disease, which she inherited, but was not diagnosed with until
she was a year or two old. Sophie confronted
the virus every day of her life, and she required regular shots to battle the
disease. In 2011, we moved to Gainesville,
Georgia, and Sophie continued to prosper.
Sophie at Rest,
Gainesville, Georgia (2012)
She spent most of her days on a
large back porch watching birds fly near her and fish in her koi pond. Her health was fragile, but on occasion, she
would rally and impress everyone with her energy and agility. The next year we returned to Vidalia. As the Summer became Fall, Sophie’s health
began to decline, but she was a feline of great internal strength, and she
fought the good fight, as St. Paul always urges. In November, on her last night among us, and
while sick, she jumped into my wife's lap, and was her old self, albeit quite
ill. The next day we were forced to put
Sophie to sleep. This was one of the
most difficult decisions my wife and I have ever made. Few days pass without our reflecting on
Sophie and that difficult night. As a
Methodist minister and former Army chaplain, I have grieved over the loss of this
wonderful, stubborn, and brilliant cat as much as I have grieved for many departed humans
I have known. I do not consider my sentiments
to be sacrilegious or unusual or extreme; my views are merely a sign of my
great love for this amazing animal. We
miss her, we love her, and we will remember her forever.
Fragile Circle
We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than
our own, live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached.
Unable to accept its awful gaps, we still would live no other way.
We cherish memory as the only certain immortality, never fully
understanding the necessary plan.
Irving Townsend
Here is Sophie in
2010 with Mr. Macavity, who always tried to be her friend!
[1]
See Stuart Marks, Southern Hunting in Black & White: Nature, History and
Ritual in a Carolina Community (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 1991).
