by Pa Rock
Farmer in Late Summer
Fiona arrived at my place as a young kitten sometime in early 2016. The neighbor, a cat person, knew that I was looking for a barn cat, and he found someone with a litter to give away in a local newspaper ad. He brought two kittens by late one evening, and within a day or two one of them had disappeared - never to be seen again. But the remaining one, a brindle kitty that I named Fiona, made herself at home in the various outbuildings and took to The Roost quite well.
The next spring, on May 8th, Fiona gave birth to a litter of five kittens in the loft of the barn, someplace where she apparently felt safe. I knew when they were born (Harry Truman's birthday - an official state holiday in Missouri - seriously) because Fiona was suddenly skinny. I was, however, unable to find the litter and it was several weeks before I met her new family. One day as I was out walking the farm, she was coming toward me with a frisky kitten dutifully chasing his mother. When Fiona grabbed the explorer up to return him to the litter, I followed along and met the rest of the crew.
Three of that first litter found homes in the Kansas City area ("Hi" Kammie Jo!), one disappeared, and one, a black tomcat, hid out until all of the fuss was over and then took up permanent residence at the farm with his mother. He was here for two years before he wandered off one day last spring and never came back.
And The Roost was kitten free until the next spring (March 31, 2018) when Fiona gave birth to a second litter, again five, this time in one of the laying boxes in the chicken coop. (I remember the date because it was my parent's anniversary.). One of the kittens died in infancy, but the other four proved to be survivors. I managed to give three of the remaining four away, including both brindles to a pair of young men who were taking them to their farm in the neighboring community of Pomona where they assured me that they would live the life of barn cats. Again, one proved hard to catch (a yellow tom) and managed to hide until he was too big to give away. That yellow tom is still here - I call him "Old Yaller," and, although completely grown, his mother continues to baby him and play with him.
This past spring (April 6, 2019) Fiona had another litter - again five. I remember the date because it was the same day that my buddy Murphy, whom I ran around with on Okinawa, arrived for one of his rare visits to The Roost. This time Fiona had her litter in the darkest corner of the little chicks' house inside of the chicken coop. I gave three of those kittens to the Amish ladies who clean my house, and they now live in a nice barn on a self-sustaining Amish farm. The other two I managed to give away while sitting in the parking lot of the local feed store. The old couple who took them assured me that they would also become barn cats.
(It was while I was sitting in the feed store parking lot trying to give away the remaining two kittens that an old crone accosted me and warned that I should be extremely careful about who I gave the kittens to - because - according to her - some people use them as bait in live traps to catch possums and raccoons! I have never heard that anywhere else, so I remain doubtful of the tale's veracity. It has the ring of a Howl County country legend!)
And that was the story - one litter of five kittens every spring. I could live with that. But a few weeks ago I happened to notice that Fiona, my beautiful brindle mama cat, was once again putting on weight - a full half-year ahead of schedule. The new litter arrived last Sunday (September 15th), during the day, and again she chose to have them in the darkest corner of the little chicks' house in the coop - exactly where she had the previous litter. I went out the following day, with a flashlight, and took the census. Again there were five - one black, one yellow, one gray, and two brindles. All appear to be well and healthy.
If Fiona lived at the home of a responsible farmer, she would of course have been spayed long before now. Her farmer, however, suffers from inertia and has been neglectful in that department. But now, if she has picked up the pace to two litters a year, a medical solution may be necessary.
The other side of that coin is that Fiona does two things really well - she is a fantastic mouser and an awfully good mother. I just hate to interfere with one of the things that makes her happy.
Pa Rock will have kittens needing good homes by Halloween. Get your orders in early!
Farmer in Late Summer
Fiona arrived at my place as a young kitten sometime in early 2016. The neighbor, a cat person, knew that I was looking for a barn cat, and he found someone with a litter to give away in a local newspaper ad. He brought two kittens by late one evening, and within a day or two one of them had disappeared - never to be seen again. But the remaining one, a brindle kitty that I named Fiona, made herself at home in the various outbuildings and took to The Roost quite well.
The next spring, on May 8th, Fiona gave birth to a litter of five kittens in the loft of the barn, someplace where she apparently felt safe. I knew when they were born (Harry Truman's birthday - an official state holiday in Missouri - seriously) because Fiona was suddenly skinny. I was, however, unable to find the litter and it was several weeks before I met her new family. One day as I was out walking the farm, she was coming toward me with a frisky kitten dutifully chasing his mother. When Fiona grabbed the explorer up to return him to the litter, I followed along and met the rest of the crew.
Three of that first litter found homes in the Kansas City area ("Hi" Kammie Jo!), one disappeared, and one, a black tomcat, hid out until all of the fuss was over and then took up permanent residence at the farm with his mother. He was here for two years before he wandered off one day last spring and never came back.
And The Roost was kitten free until the next spring (March 31, 2018) when Fiona gave birth to a second litter, again five, this time in one of the laying boxes in the chicken coop. (I remember the date because it was my parent's anniversary.). One of the kittens died in infancy, but the other four proved to be survivors. I managed to give three of the remaining four away, including both brindles to a pair of young men who were taking them to their farm in the neighboring community of Pomona where they assured me that they would live the life of barn cats. Again, one proved hard to catch (a yellow tom) and managed to hide until he was too big to give away. That yellow tom is still here - I call him "Old Yaller," and, although completely grown, his mother continues to baby him and play with him.
This past spring (April 6, 2019) Fiona had another litter - again five. I remember the date because it was the same day that my buddy Murphy, whom I ran around with on Okinawa, arrived for one of his rare visits to The Roost. This time Fiona had her litter in the darkest corner of the little chicks' house inside of the chicken coop. I gave three of those kittens to the Amish ladies who clean my house, and they now live in a nice barn on a self-sustaining Amish farm. The other two I managed to give away while sitting in the parking lot of the local feed store. The old couple who took them assured me that they would also become barn cats.
(It was while I was sitting in the feed store parking lot trying to give away the remaining two kittens that an old crone accosted me and warned that I should be extremely careful about who I gave the kittens to - because - according to her - some people use them as bait in live traps to catch possums and raccoons! I have never heard that anywhere else, so I remain doubtful of the tale's veracity. It has the ring of a Howl County country legend!)
And that was the story - one litter of five kittens every spring. I could live with that. But a few weeks ago I happened to notice that Fiona, my beautiful brindle mama cat, was once again putting on weight - a full half-year ahead of schedule. The new litter arrived last Sunday (September 15th), during the day, and again she chose to have them in the darkest corner of the little chicks' house in the coop - exactly where she had the previous litter. I went out the following day, with a flashlight, and took the census. Again there were five - one black, one yellow, one gray, and two brindles. All appear to be well and healthy.
If Fiona lived at the home of a responsible farmer, she would of course have been spayed long before now. Her farmer, however, suffers from inertia and has been neglectful in that department. But now, if she has picked up the pace to two litters a year, a medical solution may be necessary.
The other side of that coin is that Fiona does two things really well - she is a fantastic mouser and an awfully good mother. I just hate to interfere with one of the things that makes her happy.
Pa Rock will have kittens needing good homes by Halloween. Get your orders in early!
1 comment:
Bite the bullet. Have the poor thing spayed. Give her a break. Don't be accused of running a kitty mill. Poor Fiona.
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