Sunday, February 12, 2012
If you know us at all, you probably know that we used to have three cats. They were sisters, and they were lovely, and cute and adorable and loving and special, and all those things people say about their cats. They had wonderful personalities and liked, especially, to hang out with us. They each lived a very long life, with the oldest, Cimpy, getting to be about 20 (nobody seems to really know). Last spring it was Cimpy's time, and one night she stumbled off and we thought that was that. Then, 2 days later, she stumbled back into the house (THAT was shocking), but then stumbled off again. And we missed her and her sisters, and mourned our catless state.
But it isn't easy - or possible, really - to "replace" your friends quickly or readily. So when our neighborhood, and our farm, became overrun with stray cats, we thought them more nuisance than pleasure. Though it's been delightful watching the changing dynamic of this clowder, we've seen 3 rounds of kittens in 7 months. We quickly had to educate ourselves on cheap resources for spaying and neutering.
Well, now there are three again. Perhaps that's the exact right amount of cats per our little farm. We know they are mother and daughter, and believe the tom is the father. This week, for the first time, they have really started to play and connect together, and their antics around the farm are hilarious. And they are lovely, and cute and adorable and loving and special. They have wonderful personalities and like, especially, to hang out with us.
And I believe we have officially been adopted. And now only one of them is named Petey.