Christmas Kitten's

Farm cats are a must around the barn. It seems not only that they keep mice in check but they add a friendly welcome to the day. In summer all the cats seem to spread out all over the farm, hunting mice and gophers and not needing as much food or care as they do in winter. They often move out to the haystacks and grain bins.  There nature takes its course and spring kittens are born.  They have all summer to grown up.

Then comes fall and the colder weather. Every furry feline makes a beeline for the safe warm haven of a barn. My little barn  is no different. However one fall I remember a small, thin little female arriving in the loft.  She was feral and I don't know where she came from. I would see a glimpse of her now and then but she was terribly shy. The access to food held her there though and she thrived and grew sleek and glossy.....and disturbingly rounded!  Yes she was pregnant. Most fall kittens born on a farm have a hard time. The nutrition levels are lower and the cold weather we have is harsh.

This little cat was pregnant far later than usual and I sighed and worried. I couldn't get near her and I am sure if I had caught her she would have  been ferocious. Then after it seemed she couldn't get one bit more pregnant she disappeared. She had gone off to have her kittens.

At the time I had the loft about half full of small square hay bales. I also had out free choice cat food and a pile of blankets I had got at the goodwill in town. The cats loved it and could eat and snuggle up together to keep warm in the coldest weather. Still I was worried about the little cat. Then about three days later I heard the mewing of kittens when I came in the barn to feed the horses.  I carefully climbed the ladder to the loft and peeked across the floor.  There  in among all the cats were 4 tiny kittens. Happily nursing their mother and fat as butter balls! They were also snuggled up to my mother cat Mamacita.

It was wonderful. The two mother cats took good care of the babies and they were one of the best Christmas surprises I ever had. All four grew up and became great hunters and were quite tame. As for their mother.....she would disappear every spring but with the onset of fall she would return to her haven with my  barn cats. She never did get tame but she was a great provider and more than earned her catfood.  She was a wonderful addition to my farm and I will always remember her and the Christmas Kittens!

Dogs and Blogs Part 2

I have been blessed with good dogs all my life, They came in a number of different breeds. German Shepherd, Border Collie, Irish Wolfhound and mixed breed. None of my dogs were ever lapdogs and although I did let them in the house they always worked too.

I did however get adopted by a "Lapdog". When I worked on a big Angus ranch in Saskatchewan I met my first Shitz Tsu. A beautiful and very elegant little dog called "Muffin". He was a Champion and had trophies to prove it. I couldn't pronounce his registered name but it was followed by a slew of titles. He had been shown all over the Northeastern United States and belonged to a man who came to hunt snow geese in the fall.

He was short and covered with finely groomed hair. It trailed to the floor and was an elegant mix of Black and White. I thought he looked like a walking  dustmop. "Muffin" however decided I was worth getting to know. He followed me all over the house and one day when he needed to go out to do his dogly duty his owner asked me to take him for a walk. I sighed....this was a sissy dog what on earth would you ever do with one of these frail little showdogs?  It had snowed overnight and there was a good 6 inches of fluffy white stuff all over the farm yard. I broke a trail and Muffin trailed right behind me. He was brave and tougher than I though he would be. No whimpering or whining. He followed me like any good farm dog. We checked cows, we plugged in the tractor for later use, we even shovelled the walkways around the house. He loved it!

However at one pint I heard a strange huffing sort of grunting from behind me, I turned to see one brave little dog struggling with huge balls of snow stuck to his fur. His long hair had picked up all sorts of stuff, straw, snow and yes even cow manure. He was a mess! He had followed me all thet time and the build up finally got to be too much for him, but he never whined he just let me know he need a bit of help. He stoically stood there as I bent down and broke off the snowballs in his coat. Well I looked at this pampered show dog with a lot more respect. He might have been small and sissified by his owner but "HE" knew he was a real dog!

Of course there was a bit of a fuss when I took him in the house, he smelled like a happy wet farmdog, yes the lingering odor of cow manure followed him right to the bath where he was shampooed and blow dried back to his former fancy self.

Real dogs come in all shapes and sizes. Muffin always spent time with me when the people came to goose hunt, I bet he was the only national Champion Shitz Tsu that ever learned to chase cows or wandered around a cattle farm in winter. He was a marvelous dog and I still remember his determination to be a real farmdog.