A new furry face on the farm
Many of you know that last June our magnificent New Cat died suddenly, most likely from a snake bite. And then a week later we lost Gretel, a sweetheart of a tabby cat who was my beloved companion for 20 years. What you don't know is that early last November we lost yet another cat, one you'd never met (she was very private). Twin was a beautiful Siamese mix who was Molly Doodlebug's half sister.
Their mother, an incredibly smart calico cat named Ollie, was one of the seven semi-feral felines that came with Windridge Farm. There were several litters of kittens born before I was finally able to get everyone caught up and spayed and neutered.
Twin was an outdoor cat who came to live in the house after she'd had her leg badly torn apart, probably by a coyote. I didn't think she would ever walk again, but with the help of Dr. Susan's Cat Repair Kit, I nursed her back to health (hydrogen peroxide is an amazing thing!), her leg healed up just fine, and she spent ten happy years amusing us in her own quiet way.
She didn't meow, she couldn't purr, and she pretty much stopped moving around once she realized that inaction was the best way to lose The Doodle Monster's constant interest in attacking her.
With both Twin and Gretel gone, only 12-year-old Molly was left in The Shack. The thought of being the 4-1/2 pound Doodle Monster's only potential indoor victim terrified Joe so much that, despite the fact that he happens to be extremely allergic to cats, he suggested we rescue a couple of cats from the always struggling, always overcrowded, and always underfunded no-kill shelter that we've been donating money to for years. Then he let me go there alone.
On December 1st, I visited the shelter and adopted the three adult cats who had been there the longest—because really, three cats is only one more than two. (My dear friend Beth kindly pointed out that three is actually a full 50% more than two, but I told her we weren't doing the math that way and to please keep that fact to herself.)
Topaz, who is pictured above, had been living at the shelter for 15 months. There was a big 'QUARANTINE' stamped on her paperwork because she had bitten a small boy and a teenage girl, and nobody wanted to risk adopting her.
She was curled up on the bed within an hour, and when I crawled in next to her later that night she ever-so-subtly shifted her body so that it was pressed against mine, gave my hand a lick, and began to purr. I started to cry. She's a total foodie, and her favorite place to be is on Joe's lap.
Panther-like Whiskers (who now goes by Mr. Midnight) and frisky little Sarah Kate had both been at the shelter for 8 months. These two are the best of friends, and if they ever stop chasing each other around the house I'll snap some pictures of them and introduce you.
It's been a long time since I've lived with young cats, and adopting this instant family has been way too much fun. I forgot how much energy two-year-old cats have! It's been quite a change going from animals that lay still for so long you have to check to make sure they're still breathing to crazy critters who start their day by doing top-speed laps around the bedroom and bouncing across the bed to wake you up.
Settling Into Life On The Farm
Adopting a pet from a shelter is a win-win situation for everyone. As shelters go, ours is very nice and the animals are treated well. But it isn't home. I'm so glad we could finally give these wonderful, loving cats a real one.
February 2011 update: Topaz is doing great and (for three seasons a year) has turned into quite the farm cat. You'll find lots more photos of her here. You can meet Mr. Midnight here and Sarah Kit Kat Kate here. They're both doing really well, too.
© 2008 FarmgirlFare.com, the fur covered foodie farm blog where life is full of laughs and there's always plenty of fresh cream for the cats.
Feline Friend Or Furry Heat Detector?
Actually, the old tin roof on The Shack probably isn't real hot, but the woodstove chimney must put out some heat because cozied up next to it is one of J2's favorite winter places to be. Plus the view is great.
As for the big cracks in the top piece of the chimney, they happened when the whole thing flew onto the lawn during that bad storm back in July 2006 (the one where the greenhouse blew apart and Lindy The Chicken went missing). I figured we could just patch it back together with duct tape (I love that stuff), but Joe used some sort of special high-temp glue instead. So far so good.
Want to see more?
You'll find other pictures of J2 here, lots more farm cat photos here, and various farm life stories and tidbits here.
© 2008 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares stories & photos of her crazy country life on 240 remote acres.
Molly Doodlebug, Twelve Years Old & Still Only 4-1/2 Pounds
Want to see more?
You'll find plenty more pictures of Molly Doodlebug (aka The Doodle Monster) here. There are farm cat tales here and all kinds of cat photos here.
© Copyright 2008 FarmgirlFare.com
Spycat
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© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.
Heading Out Of The Heat
We're in the middle of a scorching heatwave, also known as summer, and farm cats can be counted on to find the coolest places around. In this case that means under the 100+ year-old half of The Shack. If we had a basement I'd be sleeping in it every night until at least the middle of September.
Heatwave or not, I'm just happy J2 was out and about. Today was the first time I'd seen him leave the cat cabin since his pal New Cat died unexpectedly last week. I was afraid J2 would go off in search of his buddy, but instead he's been staying in the cat cabin so he wouldn't miss New Cat's return.
I miss New Cat something fierce, but my loss is nothing compared to J2's. Those two were the best of friends who spent nearly every waking moment together, then slept curled up side by side each night on their silly pink wool bed. Tell me animals don't have real feelings, and I'll show you a heartbroken cat.
"It's a bad time of year to chuck a kitten in there with him," Joe said the other day when I mentioned how bad I felt for J2. He meant that in the kindest possible way, but sometimes the things that guy says crack me up. He was right, though. Life on a farm is risky enough for a cat, and snake season is especially dangerous if you're an innocent kitten.
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J2 is a friendly guy, but because he was so close to New Cat he didn't want much attention from us. Now several times a day he jumps over to his feeding perch in the cat cabin and cries out for affection. This afternoon I was out in the yard hanging laundry on the line and was thrilled to see him heading toward me and loudly meowing hello. I could hear his purr box running on high from several feet away.
As I pet and he purred, I explained to J2 that I understand how lonely he is and assured him that a new feline friend would be bunking with him soon. I have no doubt that another cat in need of a home will find us. They always do.
Saying Another Goodbye
The Wild Roses Are In Bloom
"How many cat years are in a human year?" Joe asked me as we lay in bed yesterday morning. He knew I was thinking about Gretel.
"Some people say seven, but there are plenty of cats who live to be at least 20, so some people say five."
"Well even at five years, that would make Gretel, wow, really old."
About an hour later, with a little cry of goodbye, the last of my four transplanted California cats passed away. She was 20 years old. Her death wasn't entirely unexpected, though I didn't think I'd be out in the garden digging another grave less than a week after the sudden loss of New Cat.
Apart from being periodically terrorized by the 4-1/2 pound Doodle Monster during the past decade, I don't think Gretel could have asked for a better cat life.
She spent her last day laying in the shade on the front step, taking in the fresh air and the farm. She waited for me to wake up the next morning and was wrapped in my arms when she took her final breath.
We were gone much of yesterday, and when I opened the front door late last night I caught myself automatically checking Gretel's favorite spots to see where she was, to make sure she was okay. I was surprised her absence hit me so hard. A little while later I realized that I've lived with Gretel longer than I've lived with anyone else in the world--more than half my life.
I'm not sad for Gretel, but a hundred years is a long time to be together. It's no wonder my heart and my home feel so empty. The memories, of course, will live on as long as I do, and for that I will always be grateful.© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.
Hold life in your hand. . .
And keep it in your heart.
I bet you are overwhelmed with the number of responses to your post about New Cat, my mother wrote to me the other day. I've been in tears several times reading them.
I know there aren't words to accurately describe just how touched I am by the outpouring of comments regarding my tribute to New Cat, so I'm not going to try to find them.
Nearly 100 of you took the time to write. Twice I sat down to individually reply to each comment, but I simply couldn't do it. Yes, I am indeed overwhelmed. Your kindness is truly amazing.
All I can say is this. If you're looking for a smile, or if, as Joe likes to put it, you could use a good eyeball washing, I urge you to make your way through the comments. They are full of thoughtful words, wonderful quotes, beautiful images, and personal stories about cherished feline friends.
There are many reasons I keep this blog. Here is one of them, left by an anonymous reader:
Farmgirl, your beloved cat is surely safe with my beloved daughter who was an animal lover without equal. Today would have been her 28th birthday, and I am so glad I came to your site today to learn of your loss. I came to your site today because it comforts me to read about the small things which turn into the great things that make up our lives.
I know that my girl has your New Cat in her arms right now. Her birthday gift today just might be your New Cat. I continue to take the most tender care of my daughter's 5 horses, 2 goats, 4 cats, and her remaining and much loved dog. I am comforted to know that your cat is safe in her arms. I am sorry that your heart is so sad.
Thank you for sharing your daughter with us, and for the marvelous thought that New Cat went off to be a warm and fluffy birthday gift for her. Thank you, Bridgett, for the smiling idea that "New Cat was a concept bigger than just a cat." Thank you, Jessica.
Thank you all.
Bean said, "May the love you give come back to you 10-fold." And as you can clearly see it already has--and then some.
The top photo is one of Whitey's new chicks (which I'll write more about soon), taken not long after it hatched. A small miracle that popped out from inside an everyday egg. But that's what all of life is, isn't it? An everyday miracle.
© FarmgirlFare.com, the peeping foodie farm blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.
New Cat was huddled in a dark corner of the cat cabin crying. Something was very wrong.
My guess is that he was bitten by a snake. The farm is thick with copperheads, and a bite to a small animal is deadly.
"He's not gonna make it, honey," Joe said softly.
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"He had a good run."
"Yes he did."
"He left a place where he obviously wasn't happy and came to live with us. That was what, five years ago?"
New Cat appeared one day out beyond the hayfield, but it was nearly a week before he made his way up to the house, having apparently decided that life here looked pretty good.
He moved into the cat cabin with J2, who had shown up years ago at Windridge Farm in much the same way, and the two quickly became inseparable. I've never known two cats who were better friends.
In the 17 years that Joe has lived on this farm, which is miles from the nearest neighbor, he is the only cat to have simply turned up. New cat.
He wore a gorgeous superfluff suit each winter and shed it for a sleek look in summer. New cat.
He was terrified of Bear and Robin and spent most of his life above dog level. He seldom allowed me to pet him, and I can't remember ever picking him up.
"He may not have been all that friendly," said Joe, "but it sure was nice to look around the farm and see him."
My most recent memory of New Cat is from a week or so ago. It was early evening and he was in the garden, presiding over a large rabbit he had obviously just caught.
My favorite memory of New Cat took place one morning a few years ago. He and J2 were hanging out in the sunshine next to the cat cabin on a little table that Joe had once slapped together from scraps of wood. J2 was grooming himself, and New Cat wanted to play. He kept rolling around on the table, batting at J2 and trying to get his attention, but J2 ignored him. New Cat wouldn't give up, though, and after a couple minutes J2 stopped what he was doing, lifted his two front paws high in the air, and tackled New Cat with a massive hug.
New Cat died very early this morning while I slept fitfully next to him, my hand resting on the side of his curled-up body. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted him to know he wasn't alone. And this cat who rarely liked to be touched would start to cry if I took my hand away.
I buried New Cat in the garden next to Hansel cat and Lindy The Chicken, not far from the spot where he caught that rabbit. In early spring I planted a small clump of spiderwort there, and it has flourished. Today I addded some more.
He was a magnificent creature who was a joy to watch and photograph. He was our New Cat. He left us in his prime, but he had a good run. He is already missed.
More about Whitey and her new brood soon. The circle of farm life always continues.
© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the full on, fur loving foodie farm blog where Farmgirl Susan shares recipes, stories, and photos from her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.
Nothing Slows Farm Boss Patchy Cat Down
Meanwhile, I am out sick (but hope to be back in fine form soon). The animals, however, have no tolerance for disruptions of any kind in their normal routine. Joe has temporarily taken over my morning farm chores, and they all keep telling him he's doing it wrong. The latest report is that Donkey Doodle Dandy is pushing for open access to the farmyard (where the hundreds of bales of hay are stored) so he and the sheep can simply eat "free choice" for the rest of the winter. Yes, I will definitely be back out and about soon.
A year of Farm Photos ago:
1/21/06: Another Heart Rock For My Collection
WCB #33: One Cat. . . Or Two?
1/20/06: Doll Face Will Be Ten Years Old This Spring
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J2 With A Good View
Attention Cat Lovers! This Is Weekend Cat Blogging #80!
My bread baking pal KitchenMage is harboring all the links to this week's kitties. And if you need a good eyeball washing (or your faith in humanity restored), do stop over at Bernie Berlin's blog, A Place To Bark. . . And Meow. Her selfless, loving efforts are simply beyond extraordinary. You can also click here to see some of the fabulous donated artwork that will be going up for auction on ebay in January. The first phase of Bernie's art auction raised nearly $1,200 desperately needed dollars. All proceeds go directly to Bernie's non-profit dog and cat rescue, A Place To Bark, in Tennessee. And if you are looking for a special furry friend to share your life with, A Place To Bark always has lots of adorable animals hoping for new homes. Delivery to other states is even often possible.
A year of Daily Photos ago: She's Not Over There
Don't know who Cary is? Meet her in A Tiny Tail for Mother's Day.
If you are the mother of a small child, you and the child probably spend a fair amount of time in the yard or the park so the child can play in the fresh air.
If you are the mother of a little lamb, you and the lamb spend an inordinate amount of time in the yard or the garden or standing out in a field so the lamb can eat.
If it is 94 degrees in the shade and humid as all get out, neither mother nor lamb really wants to be hanging around outside in the sun. So what to do? Harvest lunch and bring it in the house for your little darling, of course. (I draw the line at peeling grapes.)
Naturally the Queen (as in Reigning Terror) of the Indoors, Molly Doodlebug, aka The Doodle Monster, assumed the nice pile of fresh green grass sitting on the living room floor was for her.
Cary knew better.
This scene almost appears peaceful, but I wouldn't exactly call these two friends. I was unable to capture the hissing, nor do I have photos of The Doodle Monster taking a couple of swipes at Cary when she thought I wasn't looking.
With a lamb in the living room, every day is a new adventure.
© FarmgirlFare.com
Somebody Is A Very Baaaaaaad Influence
It's A Little Late To Try & Hide Your Identities
Attention Cat Lovers! This Is Weekend Cat Blogging #50!
See cute cat photos & discover yummy new food blogs. Visit my pal Clare & her crazy Cat Kiri at Eat Stuff in Australia for all the links to this week's kitties. For more frolicking felines, catch the traveling Carnival Of The Cats each Sunday night. And the weekly Friday Ark boards dozens of cats plus all kinds of other critters.
Curled Up TightThe next best thing to sleeping by the woodstove? Sleeping in the woodbox! But now that we're well into spring, it's time to close this lid until fall. Don't worry--I'll make sure The Doodle Monster isn't in it.
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