When we decided to move out here and take care of the farm for my mother, we had some ideas of what to expect, and what we might do in the future.
We were not naive about it, though, and knew that things would have to change with circumstances.
One thing I did not even think of at all.
That we might become a cat sanctuary.
Now, this isn’t all that unusual. Every now and then, I’ll read something in one of the local papers, or see a news clip someone shared on Facebook, about farmers and the 40 or so barn cats that they take care of. Along with their cows and goats and chickens or whatever.
We don’t have barn cats. The house came with yard cats. My dad loved them, and taking care of them was just a given.
I think it’s gotten a bit beyond that, now. LOL
We have, of course, our own indoor cats.
Our tuxedos are complete indoor cats and will not be allowed outside. They’ve never survive.
Bringing in a kitten that just showed up last year from who knows where was a matter of survival. She did not have the hardy physiology to survive our recent harsh winter. She’s in for good.
The outside cats are doing what outside cats do. Including getting very, very dirty.
I got this picture last night. Jim still has black marks in his fur, and here’s Bob, with fresh black on him. I have no idea where they are crawling into that has oil that can get on them like this.
Just a little while ago, I went to check things outside, stopping first to check the kittens.
There are actually 8 in that pile – the orange ball at the top left is 2 kittens shmooshed together. Another was at my feet while I took this picture.
Then Dave appeared from behind the tool dresser, his eyes once again stuck mostly shut.
We’ve decided not to adopt Dave out. We’re keeping him.
Seeing his eyes, I wanted to clean them again, and the easiest way to do it was to take him inside and snag a daughter.
He lounged on his back in my arms while my daughter washed his eyes.
Then he claimed my other daughter’s arms when we were done.
His eyes are still very wet from washing. It’s almost as if his eye openings are too small, or the eyelids are permanently pinched closed at the ends. No matter how clean we get them, they don’t open all the way.
Another reason why we think Not-Slick is his dad. His eyes are kinda weird like that, too.
It was SO hard to take him back outside.
Yes. We are sucks. Totally.
But he is still nursing at times, has lots of kitten cousins to play with, and two adoptive mamas to dote over him. However, we will start bringing him inside to clean his eyes. This will get him used to coming in, and the other cats can start getting used to him, too.
So far, mama cat just sniffs, then wants down; DahBoy just sniffs, while Fenrir sniffs and hisses.
After that, I finally made it outside to check on things, including the gates I painted this morning.
Which now have seed fluff in the wet paint that blew in from somewhere. Probably dandelion seeds. *sigh* Ah, well.
Eventually, I made my way to where I mowed up to the barn doors, where I pulled up a whole bunch of burdock before it got too big.
As I was walking away, I noticed a void in the tall grass.
Usually, that means some piece of garbage or broken whatever, so I took a closer look.
It looked back at me.
Can you see him?
That’s Nicky the Nose!
Normally, he would have run off long before I got this close, but I guess he felt safe in the tall grass. Even as I stopped to take pictures, he just stayed still and watched me.
So… yeah. I guess “cat sanctuary” is what we are becoming.
The funny thing is…
I’m a dog person.