Gone Cat

Momma cat from the days when she relived her youth as a house cat.

We appear to be down one cat. One of the feral kittens has disappeared, although she’s old enough by now to no longer truly qualify for that appellation. It’s just that her mother is still here (pictured) and I call her momma cat, thus her kittens are still kittens. Everyone was fixed early on, so it’s unlikely to be for reasons of love. And food is always plentiful, so I doubt she wandered off looking for better lodging. I guess it will just be a mystery as to where she went. I do hope she’s in good health, but it’s unlikely we’ll ever know the story. And that’s the way of the country.

We inherited the cats in reverse fashion. Momma cat just showed up, pregnant. Then the little black cat showed up, abandoned. There were four kittens. Two of them went to live at a ranch, and two stayed here. Now there’s one, and it’s mother and the black cat. I have three cats in the yard, all unplanned. I thought for a while that momma cat was an abandoned house cat, and I gave her a shot at living inside. But we both decided her domain was really the yard.

Speaking of country ways, we lost our little dachshund to a snake bite several years back. Got him right on the nose. Haven’t seen many snakes lately, however. I suppose the cats have something to do with that, although I’m not really sure how snakes and cats get along, or who stays out of who’s way. I have heard that cats have amazingly good reflexes, so it’s likely the ground dweller is at the disadvantage. If I was Doctor Doolittle, the cats could fill me in, but I have a hard time knowing when they want their heads scratched. So, I think getting a coherent story from them as to the disappearance is out of the question.

John W Wilson

Gatewood Press is a small, family owned press located in the Hill Country of Texas.

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