Thursday, November 10, 2005, 19:19
Where Aaaaaarrrre You?
Where Aaaaare You? (Blog for Nov. 10, 2005)
"Tippy? Here kitty-kitty-kitty," I said.
I had gone down to the barn Wednesday night to give the horses more hay and water and to put out a little more kitty food for the barn cats.
Tippy -- a black cat with a small white tip on the end of his tail -- was one of the kittens born May 1. I put up flyers around town and managed to find a home for his sister, the lone gray kitten in the litter, but I've still got Tippy and his other sister. I refer to the remaining sister as Little Sister (she's a tiny cat).
Since I still have the other two, I have now put an ad in the newspaper to see if I can find a good home for them. Having two more barn cats wouldn't be such a terrible problem -- except that the tom cat, the one I call Squeak because he's got such a tiny, funny meow for a big tom cat -- probably will not let Tippy and Little Sister stay in the barn for too much longer. They are his kittens but he has in the past driven off the kittens when they get to be big cats. The most recent one was Long John Silver. The last time I saw Long John was when Tippy and the rest of them were born. He didn't dare stay on the place after that because Squeak would not allow it. I don't want that to happen to Tippy and Little Sister.
Anyway, Wednesday night, I kept calling for Tippy. We have developed a ritual. Whenever I put cat food out for the barn kitties, Tippy comes and stands by my feet because he has decided that I should pick him up and put him on the shelf where the food is. I don't know why he decided that's the proper course of action, but that's what he has decided. He is perfectly capable of jumping up there himself, and in fact, sometimes he does. But more often than not, I'm supposed to pick him up and set him on the shelf.
"Tippy? Where aaaaare you?" I called again.
The faintest response greeted me, a tiny meow that sounded very far away.
Of course it was dark in the barn, so I couldn't see anything. I reached for the flashlight I that I had brought with me.
"Tippy?"
Again, the faint meow.
"Tippy! Here kitty!" I said.
Another quiet meow.
I pointed the flashlight up toward the hay.
No Tippy.
I shined it toward the south wall and the west wall.
No Tippy.
Then I pointed it to the ground by my feet.
There was Tippy!
I was standing on his tail. . .
"Tippy!" I gasped, quickly moving my foot. "I'm sorry!"
Tippy wrapped his tail around him as if he wanted to be sure to keep it out of the reach of my boots.
I leaned down and picked him up and put him by the cat food.
"Why didn't you say something, Tippy?" I said. "Well, I guess you *did* say something, but you didn't say it very loud! It's impossible to see a black cat in the dark, you know."
To tell you the truth, I was surprised that Tippy didn't claw my legs and screech at the top of his lungs. I think that's just the kind of cat he is, though -- more of a gentle soul.
I tried to get a picture of Tippy this morning, but of course, when I brought the camera to the barn, Tippy was nowhere to be found. Only a few minutes earlier he had been lying in the sun, basking and enjoying himself, and I thought he would probably stay there for a while. I was, however, able to get a picture of Squeak. He's a nice cat, as far as people are concerned, he just doesn't want any other adult cats in the barn except for him and Momma Kitty. When the kittens are little, he doesn't mind them a bit and actually seems to watch out for them. To see a picture of Squeak click here. (click on the images to see larger images)
Jack-o-Lanterns: Randy carved a couple of lovely Jack-o-lanterns for Halloween. He makes Jack-o-lanterns every year. Wednesday evening he carried the Jack-o-lanterns down to the garden and put them in the tall grass where the deer will be able to find them. I wouldn't have thought that deer would like to eat pumpkins, but they do. Especially in the winter. One year, when Randy grew Atlantic Giants, he put a couple of them down by the garden, and the deer ate every last morsel. Every morning when I went down to the barn, I could see that they had eaten a little more. They kept nibbling off frozen pumpkin all around the rim.
Click here to see pictures of this year's Jack-o-lanterns waiting for the deer to find them. (click on the images to see larger images)
LeAnn R. Ralph
Wednesday, November 09, 2005, 18:21
Yeeeeesh!
I will be glad when the wind dies down. We are experiencing sustained winds of 30 mph with gusts up to 40 to 50 mph. Things are booming and crashing and whistling and sighing and moaning and "going bump" all over the place around here.
The wind (even though it's outside and we are inside!) has turned Sophie into a "wild cat." She woke me up six times during the night running up and down my legs. She woke me up an additional six times pouncing on my little tabby, Bobby Cat, who was curled up in the crook of my legs.
Bobby Cat likes to be outside whenever she can, except when it's windy. That's one thing I have noticed about cats. They don't like to be outside when it is extremely windy. So, Bobby-Cat decided she wanted to stay inside and curled up in the crook of my legs last night. Except that Sophie thought it was the perfect opportunity to play with Bobby-Cat. Eventually Bobby-Cat got disgusted, left, and curled up on my chair by the kitchen table. Sophie continued to run up and down my legs after that.
The wind makes it hard to find a place to put hay out for the horses, too. Kajun does not want to be in the barn with everything rattling and crashing. And Isabelle does not want to be in her shelter with everything rattling and crashing. I put their hay outside for them, but then of course, they have to "catch it on the fly" as it blows away from them.
Lots of grit blowing around in the wind, too. I am not surprised that all kinds of bits and pieces of this and that are floating in the horse pails outside. It's the one pail inside the barn that surprises me -- which tells me, though, that even though the barn provides a good windbreak particles of dust and dirt are still being blown around.
And it's cold, too. And cloudy. Yesterday it was 60 degrees, and today, with the windchill, it is around 30 degrees. The fierce wind reminds me of the day that my friends and I rode around behind the cornpicker in the story She'll Be Comin Round the Cornfield from Cream of the Crop. It was very windy that day, too, and we had to wear coats and boots and mittens and hats. The only difference was that the sun was shining out of a bright blue sky then and today it's cloudy. I definitely needed a coat and boots and gloves and a hat when I fed the horses this morning and carried water for them.
The wind is supposed to die down later this afternoon, according to the weather forecast. I am very much hoping that in this instance, the weather forecast is right on the money. The guy on television last night said that in 12 years of doing weather, he had never seen a wind advisory that covered four states at one time -- the Dakotas, Minnesota and Wisconsin.
LeAnn R. Ralph