Way back last summer a cat family consisting of a mother and two daughters was abandoned when neighbors moved away. I reluctantly started feeding them in my barn, partly because I felt sorry for them, but also because mice and rats had been showing up more often than I like.
Now, I've had trouble in the past with cats climbing on the window screens and causing some damage, so I hoped the cat family would stay away from the house. I have never once petted any of these cats, and if they get too close I give them the boot. Not real hard, mind you, but enough to discourage them away from under my feet. This has served to make them very wise, so they can now estimate exactly how close they can get to me without getting kicked. You'd love it if you could see me vainly swinging a toe at any of the three. I miss, every time. They laugh.
I did not intend at any time for the cats to come near the house. I only feed them in the barn. And yet, when I open the front door, I often see a couple of cats scurrying off the porch from their comfortable perch on our porch chair. They aren't stupid; even though I don't feed them at the house, they know I live in the house, and they hope to persuade me to feed them a little extra.
They have yet to climb on a screen, so I guess they got the memo I sent them about that.
Lest you think I'm a terrible cat mom, I'd like to show you a picture of them when they first moved to our place:
Mom is on the right. All three were scrawny, and that calico was downright sickly.
Here they are this morning in the barn, eating their generic Walmart cat food. Cliff says they are "slick as moles".
I turned Jody out with Bonnie and Max yesterday for the whole day. My only concern was that she might nurse Bonnie, although at this point that wouldn't hurt my feelings much! Oh yes, it would worry me, because she's old enough that she might take it all and Max wouldn't get his share. This morning I actually saw her reach for a teat, and Bonnie kicked her hard. Some calves learn a trick that fools the cow, though: They learn to wait until the cow's own baby is nursing, then sneak up and nurse from the back. We used to live next door to a fully-grown bull who did this all the time, nursing cows that were two-thirds his size.
Max is deliriously happy to have another youngster around; this is how he greets Jody when they first get together, and it happens several more times during the day.
Here's the whole herd this morning. Even Sassy is in the background. Adam took Tude away for the weekend, so Sassy is the only horse on the place. She doesn't even act like she misses Tude at all.
"That's just like a woman," says Cliff.
Max is losing something very valuable to himself, but he doesn't know it, so it's OK. His scrotum is about to drop off. We use specially-made rubber bands to castrate bull calves. Before they're even able to get up and walk around, Cliff uses an elastrator to stretch the rubber band and put it above the testicles; eventually the whole package dries up and falls off harmlessly.
Oh, guess who's back?
The calico runt! Notice she is less than half the size of her sister. At least I assume they are sisters, they both nursed the mother cat. And I've seen no other cats around.
She has an appetite, I'll say that for her.
I probably should put another disclaimer here about the milk: I know veteranarians don't like cats to have milk. But I have lots of milk and these cats were starving until I started feeding them. They are barn cats, and when I have milk, they are getting it. I have cat food in case a day ever comes when I don't have to milk the cow. (Dear God, let that day come!)
Today started out pretty chilly; we had been talking about riding the motorcycle down to Jefferson City to visit Cliff's cousin Edna in the hospital. She fell and broke her hip Tuesday. Anyhow, we decided against going, which was probably a good thing; I talked to her daughter today and found out Edna doesn't feel that great.
It warmed up enough to ride by noon. Since we like to have a destination when we ride, and because I'm a Facebook fan of Hiboy restaurant, I found a good deal: Buy one sandwich, get one free.
You need to understand that Hiboy has an eternal place in my heart because Cliff and I used to eat there when we were dating. He and his family lived about two blocks from Hiboy at the time.
After we were done with our Hiboy burgers, we headed to my cousin Betty's lovely country place. We always enjoy visiting with her and her husband. Some of my fondest childhood memories are of times on Uncle Leo's farm with Betty and my other cousins.
Russ and Betty have a couple of spoiled cats (I've blogged about them before).
They recently took the cats to the vet to have them neutered; because one of the cats had a problem with matted hair, the vet shaved him while he was there. Honestly, I laughed out loud when I saw him. And I'm pretty sure the cat told me how he felt about that, in no uncertain terms, with a very direct stare.
Sometimes you just have to see something to understand, so here's the cat:
Betty's other cat, the one you see in the background of the first picture, just loves attention and hangs around people as much as possible. My cousin and I were sitting at the picnic table visiting, and I noticed him all stretched out in the middle of the iris bed (I think it was an iris bed).
I don't want to own a cat, but that doesn't stop me from enjoying other people's cats.
While we're on the subject of pets, Sadie has been vomiting frequently for at least two weeks, and we'll be spending another bundle of money on her tomorrow. Wish her (and us) luck.
Cliff found some items on Craigslist that he really wanted. Turns out that when he called the phone number listed, it was my cousin Betty's husband.
We're so happy with the two items we bought; I'll do an entry about those at another time. Let me just say that Cliff is doing a happy dance, and feels like Christmas arrived early this year.So while the men were chatting, Betty and I had a seat in Russ's shop and had a nice discussion.
Suddenly, a cat jumped up on my lap as though it owned me. And then another one.
"Betty, get my purse," I said. "There's a camera in there, and I want you to take my picture with these cats."
Then I had her hand the camera to me, and I took pictures. I'm not a big fan of tame cats, but I have to admit this cat face is totally beautiful; look at those eyes.
Then a third cat jumped onto my lap. Whoa! 
So of course, I had Betty take another picture of me, with three cats on my lap. And they stayed right there until I got up to go home.
Stacey, one of my blogger buddies, has a very sick cat. Check it out HERE. It seems she had some lily plants in her house that are extremely toxic to cats.
Handsome, he is NOT. 
He isn't used to having his picture taken; I think he rather liked the attention this morning.
Almost two years ago, our neighbor's house burned and they temporarily moved into town. That left their outdoor cat, Mr. Kitty, to fend for himself. He could do that very well, but he would sometimes supplement his diet of mice and baby rabbits with dry cat food from our barn. He's a homely creature for sure: the neighbor tells me that somebody across the road threw hot grease at Mr. Kitty's backside when he was a kitten, and that's why he has such a skinny, pathetic excuse for a tail. And then there's the way his big old tomcat head sits on a body that tapers to downright skinny toward the end. By the time the neighbors moved back out here, Mr. Kitty had taken to hanging around our place most of the time. I still call him the neighborhood cat, but I guess he's ours. He can often be seen crouching far out back in the pasture, waiting for a passing mouse. I'd be willing to bet that he catches more mice by himself than all the other cats combined.
Oh, we inherited Marvin's old "neighborhood rooster", too.
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Snowbelle, the queen of our barn, has always deemed it necessary to come to the house every morning and let us know she's hungry. I'm sure she thinks that if she doesn't tell us she's out of food, we'll forget to feed her. She has now trained her spring litter to come with her.Cliff doesn't like the cats all waiting around the back door, so we've tossed cold water in their direction trying to discourage them away. Still, they gather outside every morning, scattering when we open the door in order to avoid another baptism. Oh well, at least we don't have to worry about stepping on them now.
Meet Snowbelle. If the barn cats are out of food, they send Snowbelle to the house to order their meals.
She's been accused of being stupid.
I beg to differ; this lady is no dummy.
By the way, isn't she lovely?
