The Shadow Knows

My seemingly useless endeavor of befriending the little black feral kitten during the forced slow period of high fire danger and choking smoke appeared to have become a problem. This is the kitten I called Shadow.

Oh the kitten is perfectly content to be my friend and will come running when I call. I am able to give welcome tail scratches and pet his/her head (I have become friendly with Shadow but never did get friendly enough to actually check if it is a he or a she, it doesn’t matter to me if it doesn’t matter to Shadow). Shadow doesn’t care to be picked up and would rather tangle up between my legs as I walk out to the cattle barn to do chores and put down some kitty kibble.

While none of this is a particular problem, Shadow had begun to become a pest. When Mike parks the tractor in my barn or in the yard, Shadow and the whole feral cat population tend to migrate onto the tractor to soak up any residual heat from the motor. The cats sit on the seat and hood making muddy paw prints, they walk across the steering wheel and the dashboard. They have been known to step on the keypads and turn on the emergency flashers or turn signals, if we don’t happen to see the flashing, the use of power wear down the battery causing us the need to jump start the tractor.

Last week as I stepped into the garage, Shadow snuck inside before I had a chance to close the door. I spent several minutes chasing him/her around the bins, trailers and cribs of kindling, under the bumper of the car, through the racks of coats, boots and rain clothes before finally catching said cat by the scruff of the neck. I gave that cat the bum’s rush right back out the door. Don’t want it thinking feral cats need to reside indoors.

The firm escort out of the building did not deter Shadow from the usual routine and it looks like I cured him of wanting to go into the garage. Instead Shadow has found something new to do.

When I head out to the bull barn to bundle firewood, Shadow has begun to come out to see what I am doing. The kitten climbs in and around my feet as I work, scales the wooden sides of the cribs and watches me pull firewood pieces and wrap them on the bundle-making Twister. Shadow has also started keeping an eye out for pesky flies that have begun hibernating in the stacks of wood. The cat pounces and eats flies for a half hour or so until so full then heads off for a well-deserved nap.

I didn’t expect to make a fly-trap out of the feral cat project but this seems to be working out well for me and for Shadow, as long as the garage stays off-limits.

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