Checking On the Cats

Bob has been hanging around. I see him from a distance almost daily. He likes to rub against Malachi while Malachi tries to eat his hay. He stretches out in the sun along the fence line, ready to dash into the barn if he feels threatened. Occasionally he will peek out of a niche while I am in the barn.

I was curious if Dodger had returned so I set up my spy camera one more time. And, here are a few shots showing what I caught:

Here's Bob:

Bob is all black. 

Here's Freddie(the Freeloader):

I was thrilled to see that our visiting cat is still visiting.

I don't see him around the barn, so maybe he only comes by for food.

Recently when we had some snow I saw kitty prints heading across 

the street. Perhaps this is Freddie(the Freeloader)'s home. 

And look who also came for dinner!

It must be Dodger, our missing gray tabby:

He's back!!!

Well, maybe not!

It seems we have another freeloader!

Meet Rocky, the latest member of our barn clan!

Scaredy Cat

Pssst! Hey, you!

Me? You talkin' to me?

Yeah. Do I know you?

Sho 'nuf. I was two kennels 

to the left and one down 

from where you were stashed.

What d'ya think is going on?

I ain't got no clue. 

Don't like it. 

Nope, don't like it one stinkin' bit.

All this moving makes me want to puke.

Yeah. This is really scary. 

Last week I contacted the Denver Dumb Friends Animal League. They have been in operation, taking care of stray animals, since the early 1900's. They place cats, dogs, horses, gerbils.... you name it. Any animal that is 'dumb', as in it can't speak for itself, they take care of it until they can find a suitable home.

We have sorely missed our little feral cat. She was such a great mouser. The mice have been celebrating since she has gone and have invited the neighbors in. It is time to get a new barn kitty.

I submitted an online form to acquire a "working cat" from the Dumb Friends League. Working cats are those that can not live in a home. They are usually feral and don't seem inclined to become friendly with humans nor comfortable living in a home. (They certainly don't know what they are missing!) I received a call the next morning. That was fast! The League has a working cat for me. His name is Pop. He's a brown tabby and is about a year old. We Dreamers were at their door in just over an hour. While we were checking in with the receptionist, she asked if we wanted one or two cats. Well, heck, why not? In just a bit two carriers came out, covered in towels. One held Pop. The other held Bob. We put them in the back seat of the truck and transported them home. I already secured the garage area of the barn. I put out food, water and litter boxes ready for their arrival, as well as a few blankets and towels here and there. We have hay stored in part of this garage. I am convinced that stacked hay bales are kitty playgrounds. Our cats have always enjoyed hanging out in the hay.... and coincidently, I believe the mice may enjoy that as well. Perhaps not when the cats are around, however! We were warned that Pop is a "door dodger", so Mr. Dreamy took some fencing and secured it in an arc just inside the entry so it would be a bit more of a challenge for the cat to escape while I was entering or exiting. I decided that Pop had just earned his name, and would henceforth be called "Dodger". I was not especially fond of the name "Pop", especially paired with his new buddy, "Bob". Too similar!

The kennels were placed in the garage. The doors of the kennels were opened.... but not before I took a picture of each cat. I figured I wouldn't see them for a while. I was right. I know they are there - I fill the food bowl and empty the litter box. This morning I caught a flash of movement. But, I haven't seen any more of either of them. They will be locked in for another week (a recommendation from the League). It will be interesting to actually see the cats once they can begin moving about. Welcome cats. I am glad to have you here. I wish you long, happy lives with us.

Bob

Dodger (Pop)

At Least I Know

That's somewhat of a relief.
I'm not left to wait, and wonder.

But.... 

I do keep waiting, and gazing out to the barn.

Maybe I'm wrong?

My head tells me what happened,
but my heart does not.
I so want to be wrong about this!

Sunday morning I took a walk around the "neighborhood". I've been doing this lately, trying to get more exercise. As I crested the slight hill in front of our house I noticed a dead kitty on the road. Awww. But....wait a minute. Is that our kitty? My heart was in my throat. Between cars I made it across the road to get a closer look. I didn't really want to look. But, the cat is the right color. The face has no white. There is a bit of white on the feet. And...oh, no! The dead kitty has a clipped ear. Just like my sweet Stormy.

Before I got back to the kitty to take care of her, to bring her home and bury her, she was gone. A hawk? A coyote? The farmer across the way? Was it really my kitty?

I kept my eye out for Stormy throughout the day. She is usually very close to Malachi. She loves that horse. But I never saw her near him. But she does go off,  sometimes.

Stormy is feral. If I don't surprise her she might warily hold her ground about 25' from me, but not any closer. She doesn't come out if I call her. She doesn't meow when I talk to her. Today, she wasn't in any of her usual haunts. Not under the flat bed trailer Not on the hay bales. Not snoozing in a patch of sun in the run-in. Even though she doesn't connect with me.... I am feeling an empty spot in my heart.

Rest in peace, sweet Stormy. 

You were the best barn kitty. 

I shall really miss you.

Smile! You're on Candid Camera

Mama Boots is gone… yet her food keeps disappearing. 

I received an outdoor 'critter cam' for Christmas.

Mr. Dreamy set it up in the barn…..

Caught ya!

I think our critter is Mama Boots' elusive friend.

I have never seen him at the barn. If he lives there, he makes himself very scarce when I come around. We Dreamers have decided to keep some food around for our feline friend. Even if he lives at a nearby home, if he visits often, he may take care of the spare rodent or two!

While the dogs are away...

... the cat will host a kitty open house!

Mama Boots (foreground) seems to have acquired a friend! 

We aren't certain if friend is just visiting,

or has moved into the barn. 

Food does seem to go a bit faster,

maybe he is hiding amongst the hay bales.

Regardless, he (or she) is a cutie!

Diary of a Huntress

6:30 PM  The lady who brings the yummy food in the metal bowl ran down to the barn, grabbed the horses' food, fed the horses and left. She didn't bring yummy food for me. I'm not happy,

6:55 PM  I keep watching the windows of the house where the lady who brings the yummy food in the metal bowl lives.  Did she forget about me? Hey, lady.... I'm here at the barn, in my house....waiting...

7:45 PM  It's getting dark. I'm getting hungry. I only have the yucky dry stuff that's suppose to be food. It tastes like cardboard and it feels like I'm chewing rocks. I prefer mushy stuff. I guess I need to see what I can find.

8:15 PM  There! Did you see it? There is something moving. Over there. In the grass. My tail twitches on its own accord. I hunker down and watch. I'm in stealth mode. My nose twitches. I can smell it. It has a rodent smell. It smells warm. It is coming closer. I move swiftly and pounce. Got it!

8:20 PM  I carry the prey into my house. I am just about to dig into it when I hear that obnoxious dog, Tucker. He runs into the barn. I hiss at him. He leaves and I hide. Luckily he didn't see my prey.

8:35 PM  The man comes into the barn with a light on a stick. I scurry under the horse trailer. The stupid dog is making all kinds of noise. The man shuts the door to my barn. Uh oh. I'm out here. My dinner prey is in there. S*#%

8:45 PM  Here comes the lady who brings the yummy food in the metal bowl with another light on a stick. I'm sitting tight. Ah, but she sees me and calls my name. OK, I smell the yummy food. I'm outta here. The lady who brings the yummy food in the metal bowl lets me into my house. She sees my prey and tells me what a good kitty I am. I melt. I purr. I feel all gooshy inside. The lady who brings the yummy food puts down the food in the metal bowl. She picks up my prey puts it in the big, black cylinder lined in black plastic. She musta put it there to keep it safe from things like Tucker.

9:35 PM  I want my prey. I can smell it. I jump into the big, black container. It's a really high jump, but I'm young. I can do it. Let's see; a bunch of paper, some baling twine, some empty metal bowls.... and... my prey. I grab the prey and jump out.

.

.

.

6:45 AM  The lady who brings the yummy food in the metal bowl opens the door to my house and says, "Good Morning, Mama Boots." She sees the back half of my prey. (I could only eat half of it, what with the yummy food in the can and all.) She reminds me what a good kitty I am. She laughs and asks, "How did you get this out of the garbage can?" She tells me what an amazing huntress I am. I purr. I feel all gooshy inside.