Notes from a cat farmer . . .

When M went to assisted living, I inherited M's cats. We already had a cat, Specks, who was still a kitten. We received three cats (and then some, as I'll mention). My b & s (HA!) said that if they had "inherited" the cats, they would have shot them but my kids have grown attached to them and so the cats "owe me" for their continued existence! Ha!


This is Snowball who has a case of some unfortunate fur condition. M "adopted" Snowball as a wild little kitten who was born to some transient cat in our stack of bricks just after we moved into this house. M loved that she was white and let her live in M's washroom but Snowball has to be the meanest cat alive and she has no meow. She'll move her mouth but no sound comes out. We asked the vet whether we should have her spayed and he said she was so mean (having kept her at his "pet hotel" when M would go out of town) that she didn't need to be spayed--she would not let any cats near her. So far, he's been right. I think she's "just" fourteen this year.

Here is Speedy whom we unknowingly inherited as a pregnant cat but we gave her litter of three to our relatives to catch mice in their barn. Whew. Speedy won't be populating the surrounding area again. Meine gute. Speedy got the name "Speedy" because she runs away very fast if anyone comes near. Actually, our relatives would have taken all of the cats, kittens and grown cats, but my kids were too attached to the adults by then. The kittens hid from everyone so the kids never really got a glimpse of them before they moved on to the haystack, but not from lack of effort, particularly on T's part. He was determined to get a look at those kittens but they were too fast--taking after their mother.

Here is Oreo whose life should have been as an indoor cat who could sit on laps and eat cat snacks--almost. For being a wild, outdoor cat, he is affectionate and calm--almost. One day, he "lovingly" put his paw on my leg. "How sweet," I thought. And then he extended his claws and gripped me. Well, not so sweet. He loves to rub up against legs--the kind of cat that could trip you to your death as you walked down the stairs. He always tries to come in the house. I think when that door opens into the house, he sees how life could have been for him if he'd been to the manor born and he's ready to give it a try. He never succeeds for very long.

Now here is a cat who lives the life of luxury--but who in her heart-of-hearts is a wild cat who prefers no attachments. She is coming around a little but she doesn't want to sit on a lap or even be petted. In fact, she'll swat at you with her claws or bite at you if you try to pet her when she's not in the mood for attention. I consider L the Cat Whisperer and Dog Whisperer and L just tolerates the swipes and scratches. The other day, L's friend NB had the cat sitting on NB's lap while NB petted her. L and I were speechless! Perhaps there is hope.

This cat is named Specks. She lacks for nothing in life. She belongs to T but is really cared for by everyone (we are all "staff" to this pampered feline). I believe Specks speaks. She'll walk up to me, for example, when I'm sitting at the computer, and she'll meow several times. This means I'm to attend to some need--perhaps she is interested in going outside or perhaps I am to get busy fetching food or water. Her request might also be accompanied by gently setting her paw on my knee and meowing.

When she's outside and wants to come in, she loves to throw herself against the door to try to open it. She will even hang from the door handle but since she doesn't have the forward momentum, she can't open the door. But that doesn't stop her from trying, and trying, and trying, and trying, and trying, and trying . . . . This is just fine except when I'm sitting at the computer in the middle of the night (luckily not often) and she sounds just like some burglar trying to gain entrance. She can also never decide whether she wants to be in or out.

That concludes the cat farmer's report for today!