We arrived in Maine pulling a trailerload of sheep and goats with a carload of stuff, two cats, and a dog. Since we've lived here, we seemed to have acquired more cats. It was easy to do, really. Because all of our cats have become entirely outdoor barn cats, when one arrives needing a home, we just say, sure, what's one more? It does give me pause about taking in any more, however, every time spring and shot time rolls around. In fact, what's up with vets? They're a funny crowd, I've decided. They offer you a discount if you bring ALL of your animals to the clinic at the same time. I mean, do they really count the number of animals I have to bring (all at the same time) when they schedule my appointment?!?? You'd think they'd offer me a discount for NOT creating that kind of mayhem in their waiting room, but whatever. : ) Every spring, TBear and I round up the cats, load them into their carrying boxes, and put them in the car. Our dog, Jagger, is wonderfully dumb; he's just in it for the ride and happily leaps into the car any time we invite him to go anywhere, even to the vet. (On the other hand, I'm convinced cats understand a lot more English than dogs do...words like "vet" and "shots" can make all our cats simply vanish.)
These days we're down from seven to five cats, and as I said, they all live outside in the woodshed/barn. In the summer they all lounge around my sunny dooryard, sitting on the bench, the Adirondack chairs (whether we're in them or not), and on top of the the grill. They're great company when we finally sit and take a break at the end of the day. Actually, they're constant company anywhere we're working around the farm (unless you say those two magic words: vet and shots.) Two of them even follow me on my walks. They also do a great job of keeping the rodent population under control, though I did have to stop feeding the birds. For some reason my cats were confusing the birds with the rodents... the finks.
However, this week we've had unusually cold weather. Dangerously cold weather. Weather the humane society puts written warning notices about in the newspaper. Subzero-by-tens-of-degrees cold weather. I think my cats were tired of being barn cats, in spite of the lovely hayloft filled with hay that keeps everyone plenty warm enough. I was sitting in our schoolroom with TBear when I noticed this hanging from the screen outside on the window by my desk.
I'm thinking Burbank wanted to come in. It really was dangerously frigid even in the barn. So we let Burbank in. Then we let Chloe in. Then we let Schmitty in. Then Sammy...then Abby. I didn't want them all over the house, so we shut the door to the schoolroom and kept them in here with us. Jeepers, we have a lot of cats! We worked at the table with two lounging on the table, one on the windowsill, one under my chair, and one on TBear's lap. Then they'd get bored with napping in the warmth, because the average age of our cats, excluding Chloe, is really around 3 years old, so they'd start chasing each other and wadding up the rugs. It reminded me of a vet's waiting room run amok!The weather has warmed up well above zero today, and it's snowing, so all the kitties are outside again. Thank goodness. Whit is in his heated workshop working on my kitchen cabinets. I think the cats are keeping him company today. It's a good place for them. I know Jagger is happy having his spot under my feet to himself again. : )
