The disappearing cat mystery is solved

I've wondered several times why Mama Kitty would leave home for two weeks without ever checking in.  I now believe the answer was right in front of my eyes.  I imagine some of my hard-core cat-loving friends had guessed at this already.

Mama Kitty and Jake were on the front porch today when I went out to chore.  Mama Kitty used to lead me to the barn when she thought it was time to eat, but after I brought the kittens home, I only saw her in there once, and she didn't tarry then.  She growled, hissed, and left.  It took Jake awhile, but he finally yielded to hunger.  I give him a separate dish, though.  If one of the kittens gets less than five inches away from him, he stretches out a paw, growls, and slaps the impudent brat.  It's a gentle slap with no claws bared, but it seems to convince the kittens to get back.  

I believe Mama Kitty hates the kitten situation with such passion that she left for awhile, eating cat food left outside by neighbors.  I read years ago that cats get as intensely bonded to a location as to a person... so she finally got homesick and returned, but she still did not go near the barn ever, staying on the porch and begging me to feed her there.  

This morning I got my recumbent-bike-ride done and went out to tend to calves.  There Her Majesty was, meowing at me politely.  I put down the full calf bottles (seems like there are a lot of distractions lately) and gently picked the old cat up... as I mentioned in the last entry, she and I both prefer that I don't pick her up... and slowly started walking around the barn to the front, where the entry door is.  As I approached that door in the dark, she began a low growling.  Now, I don't know about you, but I'm a little leery of having my arms around an animal making that sort of noise, especially a creature with sharp claws and teeth.  I talked softly to her and loosened my grip so if it turned out she meant business I could release her quickly.  

Her growling got louder and more intense as we got to the door, and she even hissed.  I reached inside the door and turned on the light; Grady and Buttons, the kittens, were still in there.  Nervous and ready for anything, I carried Mama Kitty over to the pan containing the dry cat food, set her down very slowly beside it, and stepped back.  She would take a bite, turn toward the kittens and growl, then take another bite, still growling and sometimes hissing.  

In hindsight, I wish I had stayed out there a little longer; I have a feeling she left shortly after I did.  I'll try to work with her several times a day and perhaps we'll work this out.  I really don't want to keep cat food out on the porch because raccoons and possums are bound to find it.  They're already too close for comfort!  If I have to, perhaps I'll give her a pan for food in a different section of the barn or in the shed out by the chicken house, somewhere up off the ground.  Her own special place to eat!

In other news, last night I closed the chicken house door completely instead of just closing the door to the outside pen, so no varmint bigger than a rat could get into the hen house.  Cliff and I set the Havahart trap by the hen-house door and baited it with some bread soaked in bacon grease.  This morning the bread was gone, the trap was thrown... and empty.  

We don't have a lot of luck with traps.  Or possums, either.

What a morning!

After having a cup of tea, I mixed up the milk replacer and poured it into the two calves' bottles, then headed toward the door, flashlight and bottles in hand.  As I stepped outside into the dark I heard a hen cackle.  Hens don't normally cackle when it's dark unless something is messing with them, so I knew before checking that a varmint was involved.  I set the bottles down on the porch, shined the light out toward the chicken house, and saw nothing except Mama Kitty.  

Wait, what?  Mama Kitty has been gone for two weeks!  But when I said "Mama Kitty?", she came over and let me pet her.  No time to rejoice though, something was bothering the chickens.  
As I got nearer the henhouse, I saw my suspicions were correct:  a mangy possum was getting a drink from the chicken's waterer.  As I drew near, he leisurely slipped down under a wooden slab that sits in front of the door and was gone.  I aimed the light inside the house toward the roost to find there was a hen missing.  

I was fairly certain she wasn't dead, because a chicken in the throes of death doesn't just cackle: they squawk pitifully until death takes away their pain.  I shone my light around the chicken pen and finally saw her huddled in a corner, alive and unscathed.  I tried catching her in the dark, but she isn't a pet and wasn't having it.  Hoping that the possum was done with his raid for the night, I turned my attention briefly to Mama Kitty, realizing the calves' milk was gradually getting cooler than the body temperature warmth it's supposed to be.  We're talking about a cat I had given up for dead, one of the bravest, most noble cats that has ever won my heart.  I actually picked her up, which neither she nor I enjoy much, but she allowed it.  Putting her down, I turned my attention to the calves.  

One of the calves, Lucy (a boy Lucy) has a mild case of "the scours".  That's diarrhea, for you city slickers.  He's not really sick, but it's a thing you can't just ignore or it gets worse.  So I had to somehow get a pill down him.  The calves are in a pen together, and if you enter the pen you are attacked by two calves butting at various parts of your body in hopes of finding a nipple to suck... the little suckers butt so hard they could knock you down.  Somehow... still in the dark... I managed to lure the calf needing a pill into the barn and administered his medicine.  Then I fed both calves their milk.

Finally, it was time to pay more attention to Mama Kitty.  Wherever she'd been, she had obviously been eating and seemed no worse for the wear.  I wish she could talk and tell me her story!  I was so glad to see her, I gave her a can of the kitten's special food right there on the porch, just to let her know how happy I was to see her.

She was glad to get it.  Now she'll probably disappear often, in hopes of being rewarded with the fancy stuff.

She ate every morsel and then had the nerve to ask for more, but I ignored her request.  So she started cleaning herself.

This is the second time Mama Kitty has been gone for an extended time; I truly had given up hope.  Now she can get back to hunting and earning her keep.  I did an entry four years ago about how she taught her kittens to hunt (the last babies she gave birth to).  If you aren't squeamish, you can see that entry HERE.  Cats don't believe in killing their prey in a timely manner; they like to play with their victims first.

On a totally different subject, our clothes dryer stopped working two days ago.  Thank goodness I have clotheslines outside to use in such an emergency.  Friday we went to Sears and ordered a new dryer, one with no bells and whistles, of course, because that's how we do things.  
Cliff, remembering our need for shoes, said, "What about going across the street to Kohl's and seeing if we can find some shoes there?"

We went and we did!  They had a few brands in my size, oh happy day.  I had to get away from Nikes because they've always been about a half-size smaller than other brands, but I found some New Balance walking shoes that fit me at a good price.  Cliff got Nikes, also at a bargain price.  We agreed that these are not as comfy as the ones we wore in the 70's, but they were certainly better than anything we'd seen at other places on Wednesday.