Every self-respecting farm needs a cat population. A self-respecting farm cat must be a good mouser, climb trees, tolerate dogs, and enjoy eating discount bulk cat food. A farm cat’s lifespan depends on wisdom, a little good fortune, and an aversion to wandering after dark.
My son loves cats, but maybe that’s because he hasn’t discovered their true nature. He assumes that cats are made for carrying, and he lugs them around happily. In any given day out at the farm, you will find him either giving chase to a cat, hunting for a cat, calling for a cat, or carrying a cat.
This is Tiger. Tiger is Quinten’s special cat who has the distinction of being “owned” by a two year old. As you can tell by these pictures, poor Tiger doesn’t know what to do with his fate yet.
One cat just leads to another. ~Ernest Hemingway
This is Necklace. The other felines enjoy sucking on Necklace’s fur, so this cat always has a matted ring of soggy fur around it’s neck. This is proof that cats are weird, and slightly mad. This is also proof that my family sometimes gets lazy when it comes to naming the animals. The other cats (not pictured) are named “Spot” (self explanatory) and “Papa’s Kitty” (because Papa found him abandoned in a field and rescued him as a kitten).
Once we had a cat that didn’t have a tail, and my parents named him, “No-Tail”. It’s this kind of imagination that really gets my creative juices flowing.
No-Tail lived a relatively long cat life and we all mourned his passing. He was great a catching gophers. Once he was chased to the top of a power pole by a visiting dog. My parents didn’t notice his absence until the next day. They had to call the power company to get him down.
There is no way that Q would have been able to carry No-Tail around, he weighed about thirty pounds.
So, there you have it. A fifteen minute snapshot out at the farm, and three cat carrying pictures. All of the cats look resigned, desperate, and miserable. Q doesn’t look quite comfortable with the situation either, but maybe that’s because I am telling him, “BE CAREFUL HE MIGHT SCRATCH YOU!”
It’s a hard life, being a farm cat. Not only do you have to deal with coyotes, foxes, trucks, tractors, inclement weather, dogs, getting locked in the barn, and cheap cat food; you also have to beware the enthusiastic two year old.