Title: CFPL TV Chronicles: Gus the Scrapper

 

CFPL TV Chronicles: Gus the Scrapper

In the heart of London, Ontario, where the Blackburn empire spanned CFPL TV, CFPL Radio, and The London Free Press, there lived a cat whose legend rivaled that of any local news story. His name was Gus, and he was no ordinary feline. He was a huge, fat, brute of a cat owned by Martha Blackburn, daughter of the wealthy Walter J. Blackburn.

Martha, with her polished CBC accent and air of affluence, was as much a fixture of the Blackburn legacy as her father’s media empire. One day, she arrived at our rented farmhouse, which her father owned, with Gus in tow. "I hope you don't mind taking Gus for the summer," she asked, her matter-of-fact tone. "He absolutely destroys the ecology of our cottage island." she said, barely waiting for a response. She handed us the cat and a 20 lb. bag of dry cat food and, before we knew it, she was gone. That was the last we heard from Martha.

Gus wasted no time in asserting his dominance. I had constructed a small, flap-type cat door in the boiler room window, thinking it a convenient entrance for our new furry friend. Little did I know that Gus would use this portal to bring us a veritable zoo of dead critters. One morning, I found a rabbit proudly deposited on our kitchen floor. Gus sat beside it, looking as pleased as a cat could be.

The neighbours soon got wind of Gus’s escapades. "He's a scrapper, that one," they’d say, half-admiring, half-dismayed. Gus had a knack for stirring up trouble, be it with local wildlife or the other cats in the area. Yet, despite his rough-and-tumble ways, we couldn’t help but love him.

One particularly memorable day, Gus strutted through his cat door with a snake clamped in his jaws. The audacity of the act left me speechless. Gus dropped the unfortunate reptile at my feet, his eyes gleaming with pride. It was then I realized that Gus saw our home not just as a sanctuary, but as his personal hunting ground.

As time went on, Gus became a fixture of our household. His antics were the stuff of legend. Despite his ferocity, there was a softer side to Gus. On cold winter nights, he’d curl up beside us, purring contentedly as if to say, “You’re my family now.” His presence, though often chaotic, brought a unique charm to our lives.

Looking back, I can’t help but marvel at how Gus, with his scrappy demeanor and boundless energy, became such an integral part of our story. He reminded us that even in the midst of wealth and polished accents, it’s the simple, unrefined moments that bring the most joy.

So here’s to Gus, the scrapper who won our hearts and left an indelible mark on our home. And here’s to the Blackburns, whose legacy extended far beyond media empires to include the unforgettable tales of a cat who ruled the roost with an iron paw and a mischievous spirit.