SQUIRT THE CAT

Meet "Squirt the Cat", the four legged resident of Shepherd's Cove. Read his story as told in the Sand Mountain Reporter.

By reporter George Jones
The Reporter

Published October 22, 2009

Described as stubborn, spoiled, lazy, nosey, and even humorously as worthless, a portlymulti-colored feline ball of fur named Squirt has captured the hearts of many that have utilized the services of Hospice of Marshall County’s Shepherd’s Cove, in Albertville.

Weighing an estimated 23 pounds, Squirt has been described by his original owner, administrative assistant Jennifer Smith, as a “Heinz 57.” 

“Squirt the Cat 2009: Photo by George Jones"

Squirt acquired his name because he was the smallest kitten in a litter of seven born in April 2006, Smith said.

Initially, Squirt’s association with Hospice of Marshall County began innocuously as a “mouse catcher” after director Rhonda Osburne decided it might be good to have an outside cat to deal with unwanted rodents.  Seemingly, not content being a mouse catcher; Squirt began to cozy up to patients. “He pleadingly meowed until the family inside let him in, and he spent the day in the room,” unit secretary Linda Lackey said. “This became a habit.”

Thus, the runt of the litter, at the ripe old age of 2 months began his position as the “comfort cat” — and continues as such after three years.

Families, while often vying for Squirt’s attention, soon find he has his own schedule. “He sort of wonders around, and he’ll pick a room, go in and visit, or get on the foot of a patient’s bed and take a little nap,” Lackey said. How do the patients, in general, feel about Squirt? “The patients really like that,” staff nurse Melissa Strange said. For those patients that have an aversion to cats Lackey said, “We make a note of that, so he does not intrude into their room.”

“One male patient, upon arrival, made it clear he didn’t like cats and didn’t want Squirt in his room. However, one morning Squirt, unknown to us, managed to get in the room,” Lackey said. “Rather than becoming upset, the staff discovered the gentleman fell in love with Squirt and began asking for him … Squirt can change attitudes,” she said.

“The majority, about 98 percent, of patients just love him to death, and are thrilled, and family members too, when he comes into their room.” Lackey said. “Not everyone on the staff is really crazy about him, but the majority of us do love Squirt.” 

Death of course is a prominent reality at Shepherd’s Cove, and it appears, according to staff members, that Squirt has a sensitivity to that fact. “One night, after hours, I noticed him sitting outside room one, where a patient was in the dying process, and when she passed away he moved on down to room two. Within 30 minutes she too passed away, and he moved on … I believe they (animals) have, in these situations, a sensitivity that we don’t have,” staffer Sue Couch said. “He is more apt to be with those patients at that time,” said Strange.

Squirt’s popularity reaches beyond the halls of Shepherd’s Cove. “He has become very famous. We have people come to Shepherd’s Cove just to see Squirt. They bring him gifts, including his own quilt,” Lackey said.

“When you think of a medical facility you don’t typically think of an animal running around, that makes Squirt something of a novelty,” Couch said.

Susan Sanders, marketing and public relations manager for Shepherd’s Cove engaged in a little anthropomorphism as she described another side of Squirt, equating Squirt’s behavior with that of a child. “Squirt likes to be at the foyer and front desk area, but, because he is not supposed be there he will, just like a child might, sit at the double doors and beg, in his case by meowing, to be let through,” Sanders said.

“He’s very independent. There will be times when he will let you pet him, and baby him and enjoy it. Next time he might turn his little nose up and walk off,” Lackey said. He also gives the distinct impression he oversees the daily activities of the staff by sauntering around on the nurse’s station counters. 

“We make sure he’s in good health. He’s had all his shots. We don’t feed him people food on the advice of our veterinarian. We give him cat snacks, which he loves and will beg us for. However, some family members sneak him in other kinds of snacks,” Lackey said. 

Couch and Strange perhaps, best summed up Squirt’s value to the hospice program. “He contributes to the home-likeatmosphere we attempt to create. When people come here and see him – for a few moments they forget their sadness … he provides a little release from the realities associated with the dieing process,” Couch said. “He’s an angel in disguise,” Strange said.