A few weeks ago we had some really good hay that the farmer decided to put inside the barn.

It has been years since any hay has been put inside.  This was the part of the barn we had fixed for the cats to be safe from dogs.  Last winter there were only a few square bales on the ground so it wasn't the warmest place for the cats and no place for new kittens to be born.  I wondered what the cats would think when they saw their "home" filled almost to the ceiling of the barn.

They love it!  And there are all sorts of nooks and crannies where they can hide and make their warm bed when the winter winds blow.  The farmer left a space at the door where I go in to feed them.

Cats are important to have on a farm.  We rarely see a mouse around the chicken houses where they can do a lot of damage to the insulation on the buildings.  Gotta take care of my cats!

Charlotte

Spring Joy for a Farm Wife

Kitten Tales

I don't know if you've met Callie, my oldest cat.  She lives outside, in one shed or another, just wherever she prefers on any given day.  She's very affectionate, as long as she's not in my arms, then she squirms until I put her down.  These are her kittens from early fall;

just take your pick of which color you like best.  It's been several years since we've had a yellow cat, so I was thrilled, although I knew I'd never get to keep one.  They were born in between some big, extra chicken house fans and  bags of animal bedding on the back of a truck.  The weather was getting cooler and they cried a lot.  Whenever Callie realized I knew where they were, she moved them.  About this time we were selling a bull and the farmer had taken the stock trailer to the barn to load him.  Something told me to look inside the trailer, and there were the kittens, huddled up in a corner at the front of the trailer.  All I had to put them in was my bucket of cat food (picture) so they took a ride back to the shed.  On the way I stopped and picked up a little hay to make a bed for them.  The first thing Callie did was jump into the tub they were in, grab up the white one and jump to the ground.  I put it back in the tub and she got another one and just disappeared.  The next time I went to feed her, I found the kittens in the seat of the BobCat, then they were gone again.  I didn't expect to ever see any of them again because the dogs here have killed all the kittens born on this farm this summer.

Now I know some of you adore dogs, I understand that, but I hate dogs for this very reason.  The dogs here are the results of two "dumped" dogs, one of which had seven puppies and two are still with us, making four, useless, annoying animals.  Almost every time they kill a kitten, they bring it to the back door!

Well, back to the kittens; last week Callie brought the gray and white kitten and one yellow kitten back to the shed and put them up high on the back of a truck.  They were safe there, and I told her so, but again, once she realized I knew where they were, she moved them to the ground.  Two days, and the yellow one is found at the back door.  So yesterday I put the other one back up on the truck, and when I went back for the afternoon feeding, it was gone, but I heard it meowing.  With much sound-searching I found it ~ on top of the stock trailer!  I couldn't reach it; last night was very cold and windy and this morning I didn't see it or hear it, so...I'm just expecting to see it at the back door any time now.

I hope I didn't offend those of you who have loving dogs as pets.  Forgive me?

Charlotte

Kitty Love

I've found three litters of farm kitties, all put in places picked by their mothers:

behind the hydranga bush,

beneath the bulldozer,

and in the barn.

Two are white with gray noses, ears, and tails,  others are gray tabbies, or gray with white noses, and some are black or blue-gray.  This little white kitten has long, soft hair; she (?) is small and frail.  I put feed and fresh water out for them; the hot weather makes it very stressful for them I'm sure.  So far, The Dog ignores them, as long as he gets his own dish of food.  Stray dogs are the ones I have to watch out for.

I love little kittens; they make a farm happy!

Charlotte

My Callie

Let me introduce you to my calico cat, Princess Calico. aka, Callie; aren't all calico cats called Callie at one time or another? She's very affectionate, as long as it's on her terms; she likes to be petted, but "don't pick me up!" Last spring she had five kittens; one solid black, one calico, one black and white tuxedo, and two gray and white tabbies (one tabby disappeared). She kept them hidden for a long time, but finally brought them to the barn. They expect food from me, and used to scatter like crazy when I went in with them, but they are beginning to be less afraid. Maybe being afraid will help them live longer. The cat-killing dog in our neighborhood was at the barn a couple of days ago, so I stay in constant fear they'll get caught.

There is a solid black male cat who stays at the barn with them. He doesn't have a tail. I think Callie's looking plump around the middle; could it be? I wonder what her adolescent children will think of new siblings!

Charlotte

A Terrible Emptiness

He came to us a few days after 9-11, 2001, a frightened, little ordinary gray and white kitten, thrown out at our house. I heard his pitiful cries and quickly scooped him up before the dog knew he was here. Since we already had a cat at the house, I wrapped him up in a towel and took him to a barn where I fed him every day until he got big enough to find his way to the chicken houses. He lived in a large drain pipe and when men came to catch the chickens I brought him to the house so he wouldn't get carried off or run over by trucks. The older cat didn't welcome him at all except with one-sided fights; the kitten always had a pleasant personality. The old cat left home, so the kitten became our house cat, a part of our family, another child. Everyone came to know Jasper and how special he was to us. He let us know when he needed to go outside and then when he wanted back inside, he would reach up and jiggle the doorknob. He selected various places in the house for his naps, slept at the foot of the bed some nights, and seemed to know when I was fixing supper; he had a way of parking himself in front of the refrigerator where I needed to walk. He loved to nuzzle up under my hair and I told him many times, "You're the bestest kitty in the world." We were all three going to be 70 years old this year; planned to grow old together.

This week, he had gone outside for his potty break and never came back. I called and called, even got up in the night to see if he had come to the door because it was so very cold. The next morning Noel found him in front of the tool shed; roaming dogs had killed him during his outside time. Now there's that terrible empty spot in our hearts, overlapped with loving memories of him, and at the same time, hate for the dogs. I thought yesterday I heard the noise of his little paws on the floor, the jiggling of the doorknob, and I've looked many times at the chair where he slept; but he's not there after 9 1/2 years and it's a terrible emptiness.

Our House Guests

The weather for the next few days is supposed to be unusually cold for Arkansas, in the single digits for lows with wind chills below zero. Last night, my son said one of his teachers said that's the kind of weather that can kill animals that have to stay outside, like cats and dogs. So we made the decision to bring the kittens in from the big shed and let them stay inside until the coldest weather has passed. (Poor dogs! They get the garage.)

I bought some kitty litter today and brought the cats in when I was making the rounds of feeding everyone and breaking the ice on the water troughs. So far, the guests have been pretty shy. The female kitten, Nacho, hides any time I enter the room, but the male one, Midnight, while he's not exactly friendly, seems a little more at home. At one point, he was sitting on the footstool in the living room, waiting in ambush for his mother to walk by. He's really cute. I don't care for cats, but he could change my mind!

There are two things I hope: that they understand about the litter box, and that no one gets lost in the middle of the night and starts yowling (which they have been doing whenever they can't find each other).