by CLC

Has an animal ever alerted you to a potentially dangerous situation?

answered by CLC, May 12, 2019

Little Lucky “Conehead” Larry Lee Williams. My friend and protector. He watches over me now and he always will.

Who knew what a special cat this little guy would be? I started to write a book from his point of view once, but I never quite got it right. Maybe someday.

Little Lucky came to us as a rescue from a terrible home situation. He absolutely had nowhere to pee and the owners scolded and punished him for the discreet places he would find. His mother had been shot out back, along with his female siblings, to prevent more unwanted kitties.

I say “came to us”, but I should say, “came to my son”. I didn’t want to adopt him, except to save him. I was happy with my beloved Elrond and he was my special one.

Having lost three other cats to stupidity, mostly mine, and because we were currently purposely homeless ourselves, I had no desire to add a new member to our entourage.

His name was Larry. My son gave him the Lee Williams, after his owner, and I gave him the Little Lucky, cause he was a little lucky that I said yes to convincing his owners to give him up. He was the spittin’ image of his father, who had made the family proud, and they were a little reluctant to part with him.

Little Lucky sat quietly in the background. My son loved on him so much. But I had Elrond and Elrond did not like Little Lucky. Of course I am a cat lover, so I was as nice to Little Lucky as Elrond would allow, but knowing how much attention and love my son gave him, I didn’t feel so bad in what I knew had to seem like rejection to that cat.

On one occasion, it was raining sheets, so I went to get Elrond from the truck and brought him into the tent. I knew he would be scared of the thunder. Little Lucky was alone in the back of the truck. Of course it was only minutes until I couldn’t stand it anymore and I had to go get Little Lucky, too. I didn’t know how he would act in the tent, but he was a perfect little angel.

I softened some and started paying more attention to him. I tried to get him and Elrond to get along, but Elrond hated him. So I didn’t have much choice. Elrond was always with me—following me, riding on my shoulder, sitting on my lap.

Then came the time when we rented a small trailer for a few months in the winter and Elrond got very sick. I didn’t have a lot of money and I believe in my heart that the vet gave me the wrong advice on the best thing to do with the money I had.

It’s a sad, heartbreaking story, with Elrond dying in the end, and I will probably write about it some other time. In fact, I’ve written about it many times. I loved that cat with all of my heart and his death was so senseless.

But to get back to Little Lucky. I have it written down somewhere, but I’m just gonna go on memory here.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, having just buried my most precious cat in freezing ground that was extremely hard to dig. I was exhausted and the saddest I had been since my brother died.

Little Lucky literally never came near me. Ever. I always approached him. But now he was all over me. He was nudging me and rubbing my face and at first I pushed him away. But he was so persistant! Finally, I let him in. That cat wouldn’t let up! He made me stop thinking about Elrond and start thinking about him.

I asked Alex, “What the heck?” “What is this cat doing?” “Does he know I’m sad?” I cried for what seems like forever and that cat wouldn’t leave me for anything.

I think that cat knew the danger of me being too sad. He was there to keep me from that.

I thought that was amazing, but probably just happened cause he had me alone, without Elrond near. That’s the downside of having a cynical mind. You’re unable to appreciate the real moments in life.

But Little Lucky never let up. He would come sit on my lap and nudge his head on my chin—I don’t know—just to let me know he was there.

We moved into my son’s house and I believed Little Lucky had a safe place to go outside and come inside when he wanted to. Naive—I don’t think so. Stupid—yet again, yes.

One day—okay, right now I feel stupid writing this story because it’s already been written. I was going to try to write it again, but actually when it was written, it was fresh, and I’ve just recently found that when I tell the story, I have changed it up some. So here is the original:

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Our Cat Little Lucky Larry Lee Williams Rat Snake Alert

Our cat, Little Lucky Larry Lee Williams, spends a lot of his time outside, on our front porch. The only time he wants to come in is to grab a bite to eat and then he's out again.

One day, I walked out there and held the door open for him to go in. He ran up to me rather quickly, but wouldn't go in the door. He turned and ran back to the edge of the porch. Seconds later, he ran back to me. He was moving really fast, as if something was after him. I could see that nothing was.

I held the door open again, but he would not go in. He ran back to the edge, which was about fifteen feet away from me. I said, "Fine, then. I'm going to sit and have my coffee." As I was walking to the chair, he ran up to me again and then very quickly back to the edge. This time, I could see he was staring at something, so I went to have a look.

I couldn't see it at first, because it was in tall plants, but then I spotted it. It was a huge snake!

Little Lucky's attitude changed immediately. He walked right up to the door to be let in. It was amazing! It was as if he knew I'd seen the snake. He wanted to alert me and he had. His job was now done and it was time to eat!

Alex was just inside. I asked him to keep an eye on the snake while I let my oldest son, Joey, know about it. Joey took a very long few minutes to put on his boots and find a stick, but the snake hadn't moved at all.

We thought it might be dead. Joey slowly moved some leaves above it and it moved. We could only see a small part of its body. It looked about as big around as my wrist. I told Joey I thought his head was on my end and Joey said, "No, his head is right here!" He moved some greenery with the stick and I saw the snake was poised to strike him.

I told him to stay very still, but that didn't help. The snake struck at Joey's boot. Joey was able to get around behind him and grab him. When he brought him out, we saw that he was about five feet long!

It turned out to be a harmless rat snake, but I guess Little Lucky didn't know that!

I've heard of dogs that bark and run back and forth to get you to follow them, but I would never have believed a cat would try to do that. In total, he ran up to me and back three times! I wonder how long he would have kept that up if I hadn't responded.

I only wish this story had a feel good ending. Unfortunately it doesn't. Joey made a pet out of the snake, even though I implored him to set it free. So the next time Little Lucky spots a snake, I'll just pet him and say, "Good job!", and I won't tell anybody about it until it's long gone.

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After this, Little Lucky had an incident with another cat that caused him severe grief. His wounds got infected and nothing I could do could heal them. I spent years—yes years—doctoring Little Lucky. Changing bandages every single day.

I kept him secluded most of the time, to ensure he didn’t pass on the infection, or that other cats wouldn’t hurt him. I watched tv with him, I built him runs, I talked to him through the garden barriers I had set up, all day long.

I could tell he just wanted to be a part of the group. We had a home now and he wanted to get to know all the cats that lived there. But I was afraid, so I kept him apart.

But then my son and I went traveling again and I decided it was best that the other cats get used to Little Lucky. He was so friendly! He liked them all. Too much, maybe. Eddie just wanted him to stop following him! And none of them would let him in their sleeping bag, so he would just lay right on top of them. He loved the fire and would get way too close for comfort to it.

We were at Lenox Marcus in Arkansas, which is actually where we were when we got Little Lucky, when Little Lucky started acting crazy. He was pointed toward the bushes and growling and howling. He kept looking back at us and then back to the bushes and then he took off into the brush like he was a lion after his prey.

We never knew what it was. He eventually returned on his own, as we had been unable to find him.

When we were in Tennessee, he was in the back of the truck when a neighbor came to visit. The neighbor brought a dog with him and all the other cats ran to the other side for safety. Not Little Lucky! He was right there at the window, hissing and trying to get out! He was trying to protect me from that dog!

When we were in Georgia, he started laying on logs by the river, which we had to discourage, because there were alligators there. He fell in once, which I’m sure was a discourgaement on its own.

I don’t know if it was falling in the river, or if it was the healing of his last wound that was the final blow for him. I was really happy that he wanted to stay in the truck after his dunking, so I didn’t read much into it. But on the second day, I took notice.

I could see in his eyes that he was very sick. The kind of sick that you don’t come back from. I sat with him for a day and a half in the back of the truck, doing puzzles and talking to him. I couldn’t help him and I knew it.

When the end was near, he acted like he was in a lot of pain. I know cats, so I know they hold most of it in, and if they show it, it’s bad. I took him outside so he could be close to nature, and I tried to strangle him, to put him out of his misery.

But I couldn’t do it. I told him I was sorry, he deserved better than that from me, and I begged for his death. Please God, let him die. And he did. Almost as soon as I asked, I saw him take his last breath.

I had made a cone for his head out of a blue bowl I had purchased from Dollar Tree. We had been calling him “Little Lucky Conehead Larry Lee Williams” because of that.

I threw it in the garbage can. He wouldn’t be needing it anymore. But then I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I went and got it from the trash. I cut pieces from it and hooked them onto a safety pin and then a bread tie and hung them from my shifter in my truck.

I called them “Little Lucky’s Pieces” and I have them to this day. They protected that darn truck and helped me do what I needed to do until the day I traded it for a much better vehicle.

Now his “pieces” are with me and when I feel I need his help, I use them like charms.

“Little Lucky’s Charms”

He will look out for me always and I will always treasure the friend he is to me.