Useless Endeavor

Back when talk of lock downs began, which seems like decades ago, I heard of fantastic tales about those people who made lemonade from their time being house-bound. Some learned a new language, others deep-cleaned their home one room at a time, I heard that DIY home remodeling projects big and small were being taken on, victory gardens were planted, there were those who posted hilarious videos about being shut-in or handy hints on mask making, and the list can go on and on. They made purposeful use of their situation.

We were so busy on the farm we could not keep up with the demands. Our lawn was shaggy, the garden overgrown with the biggest pig weeds I had ever seen, fences that should have been fixed are cobbled together, anything that broke was put on the list of repairs that we may get to in the winter.

At least that was how it was here until the extreme fire danger and damaging dry east wind event. I could not go into the forest, I could not work on firewood, grid-wide electricity was taken off line because of fire danger, and then the smoke rolled in and it was not comfortable to be outside most of the time. I decided I needed to make lemonade, find something to do with my time that would be productive.

With an idea of bettering myself or my surroundings, I looked for something to do and came upon the notion of getting friendly with one of the feral barn cats. It was a daring idea, these cats hang around the barn because I feed them when doing the chores, but the lot of them are skittery and would rather run than be close to a human. The number of cats eating each day varies because they come and go as they do hunting trips along the dangerous fence line. Recently there had been as many as eight for dinner but most times only three or four.

There was one lone kitten left from the batch of three that one of the calico cats had a little over a month ago that is almost always in the barn at feeding time. The kitten is black with only a few hairs of a white patch on his chest. The other siblings were lost to coyotes about a week earlier and this lonesome kitten was being snubbed by the other cats.

Each day as I fed, I got closer and closer to the kitten and it got braver each day. I was finally able to touch his tail now and again without him scampering away, then he let me actually pet him as he munched on kibble, then I tried lifting him off the ground and inch or two before setting him down. I felt I had begun to achieve success, but the next day he was missing from his meal. We had cows to feed and stock tanks to fill with water so it was not a time to worry about the kitten.

Marilyn was filling the tanks for the show cows, Mike was watching the bull pen tanks and I was out behind the barn filling the heifers stock tanks. When Marilyn was walking in the driveway after moving a hose, the black kitten came scampering out of the hedgerow running right for her. When the kitten realized it was not me, he stopped in his tracks like the iconic Halloween fright cat. Hairs were raised, his back was arched, eyes were wide and his tail was like a question mark. As I came around the corner Marilyn and the kitten were frozen just feet away from each other unsure what to do. I happened to come around the corner at that time and was surprised by the kitten, I hollered “Well I know you! Here kitty…” as I bent down and rubbed my fingers together. The kitten came running to me. I was able to pick him up by the scruff of the neck, and nestle him in my arms so I could return him to the barn where I got him some kibble to eat.

Now he has become my companion as I do the watering, work in the garden, pick up filberts or fill the woodshed. The only problem is that I never did get around to naming the thing. I’m hoping my readers will come up with an appropriate moniker for this cute little critter. Until then, my kitten and I have work to do…

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