Feb. 14, 2003 ~ Barn cats
When the barn cats were babies, we had a couple of sessions of Kitten School. You would think they didn't need lessons in how to be kittens, and you would be right. This probably should have been called Big Grown-Up Cat School. Still. It was what it was. There were six in Mouse's litter, all just as precious as they could be. It was springtime and there were ants in the barn, here in the fire ant capitol of the world. We learned that the ants weren't so likely to get into the kitten chow if we put their food bowl up high. So we recruited an old mini-trampoline which had been gathering dust in the barn, and enlisted it in the fight. Voila! The ants were stymied. Trouble was, the kittens couldn't reach the food, either. So we made steps out of a brick and a small tacklebox, and showed the babies how to step up onto each one. It only took a couple of lessons, and they got it. Fast learners, all.
We also had large plastic tubs for the horses' water, and the big cats stood on their hind legs, stretched out long and lean, and drank from the tubs. Naturally, the kittens wanted to do the same. So we got more bricks and some blocks of wood, and built another set of steps for the babies. We only had to show a couple of them how it was done; the rest watched and figured it out. That was the end of my career as a teacher of kittens. The rest, they knew or learned on their own, or with their mother's able help.
Mouse is still with us, and the three surviving kittens will turn six in April. Sometimes while I fill the horses' tubs with water, especially when I see those grown-up cats standing on their hind legs, reaching high, grasping the edge of the tub, I can almost see their tiny baby selves, standing on the blocks of wood. Somewhere there are pictures of this; if I find one, I'll post it.
Until then, here's a picture of four of Mouse's babies. Clockwise from the top, they are Max (tortoiseshell), Smoke (gray), Sam (black) and Squeak (gray tabby), admittedly my very favorite barn cat. As a kitten, he had this tiny baby squeak of a meow, along with the world's biggest ears. This made for an incredibly cute combination, and he won my heart. All of these kittens, except Sam, are still with us.
Okay, I couldn't resist one more. Squeak, all grown up, walking in the flowers. Weeds, you say? Maybe so, but we prefer to think of them as flowers. Our back yard and garden area currently look much as they do in the photo, although the pasture grass is not yet green. Plenty of henbit, er, flowers, though.
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