Three Men And a Cat

Yes a Cat!

Meet Red. 

Just spent a week at a campground on the Bighorn River. No cell or WiFi coverage. Fishing was spotty; enormous may fly spinner fall in the morning but the weeds in the water made it difficult. I finally found the right fly and just kept casting to the feeding trout and got lucky every 30 casts or so. 

17"

They weren't huge but very strong. Between the weeds and the current it took a long time to get them to the net and then they were very tired so it was back into the river and rehab as soon as possible. 

The second night out a cat moved in after dark. 

He was very friendly and obviously hungry. All we had was freeze dried dinner so we gave him some spaghetti. He loved it. Turns out he loved anything we were eating. 

He showed up for breakfast and we found out he preferred his milk cold.

He got friendlier every day and turned out to be very needy and very kneady. He knew no boundries, when he wanted some of your potato chips he just walked into the bag, nose first. And he seemed always starved. 

The next day I decided to bring back a fish for him.

I cut it up into a large piece and the tail. That night I tried giving him the tail.

It seems he doesn't like sushi, he preferred a light sear on the campfire. We cooked the smaller half and he left only perfectly cleaned bones. We kept the rest for the next night. 

Meanwhile, back on the river. 

Mike Micci and a nice rainbow that wouldn't hold still for the camera. 

Back in camp. 

That night Mike gave the cat ( now called Red, Rog took the responsibility of naming him) refuge from the poring rain and took him into his tent. He laid out a nice towel for him to sleep on but Red preferred sleeping on Mike's face. 

It was positively embarrassing, three old farts smokin, drinking and talking baby talk (that would be Roger) to a strange cat. He would now show up in the morning and we had to take turns holding him so he would let us fix our cereal. The cat, not Roger. 

He (Red) would go from old fart to old fart, never pausing that long.  And if anyone opened a food container, he was in your face. 

We cooked the last piece of trout on the last night and he took two turns at it but ate the whole thing. It was at this point that we saw him calm down for the first time and relax. He was finally one contented cat. There was nothing left but a clean fish skeleton and a purring cat. 

Today we said goodby to Red, packed up and Rog and I went up to Bozeman to meet up with Jake for dinner. Mike stayed for one more shot at the Bighorn before he started back to Denver. 

We all three had the Montana meat loaf at the Montana Ale Works. Hands down, the best meat loaf ever. 

Not a kid anymore. 

I apologize for not having any photos of Rog with big fish. They must have been accidentally erased. Maybe next week. 

Travel safe.