Our cats have been indolent, willful, charming, bossy creatures who run us mercilessly and never cease to attempt take advantage of any food opportunity.
The original cats, Floppy and Princess, were feral kittens who were rescued, and unfortunately, led short lives. The next cats came from our dear, and now departed friends, the Rudholms, who were grappling with a feral cat explosion on their family farm. We asked for one cat. They brought four: Mr. Big Stuff (Biggles), Millenium, Blossom, and Sammy, who was killed by the neighbor’s dog shortly after arriving here.
Biggles, Millennium, and Blossom lived long and prospered. We learned about a lot about sibling rivalry from observing their dynamics. Shakespeare could have written some pretty good plays from their epic struggles. Whoever says that animals don’t have emotions or the ability to plan, must just not be paying attention.
Cat Drama
Cat drama has been some of the most intense drama of our time on the farm. We tried everything, including building cat shelves and using Jackson Galaxy’s Cat Daddy tips, all to no avail.
One day, when the cats were about seven years old, Blossom brought home a sick, weak feral kitten whom we adopted and named Tiny. She was covered with engorged ticks, swaying on her feet from blood loss and dehydration. Blossom looked on with a satisfied look as we put out food, then eventually trapped Tiny for neutering and medical care. However, once Tiny became part of the household, Blossom took exception to her, and, a lifelong, bloody battle began between them.
The backstory is that Blossom had suffered years of psychological torture and physical intimidation from Biggles, an insanely jealous cat who delighted in making Blossom suffer. Blossom once spent two years in captivity in our barn, unable to get sunshine, because Biggles kept watch on the barn cat door and attacked her when she tried to leave. Tiny was Blossom’s answer: a cat of her own. Unfortunately, Tiny bonded deeply with Biggles and was his devoted servant for the rest of his long, machiavellian life.
Cats and Dogs
When we brought home Pearl, Biggles responded by attacking her viciously, leaping on her back and slashing at her, yowling. Although Pearl could have killed him with one snap, she gave him a wide berth everafter. For Biggles, it was a consummate failure. Previously, he had managed to engineer the departure of George, a guest guardian dog. Biggles thought then that he had solved “the dog problem,” and was furious when we got one of our own.
Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. Biggles ruled everyone with extraordinary machinations until finally he succumbed to old age and ill health. In his last year he lived inside the house. When we brought home a second guard dog, Blossom and Millennium divorced us; they moved to the neighbor’s place for two years. The cats’ embargo lasted until we brought home Rosie, the third livestock guardian dog; they realized we meant it. They came home within one week of Rosie’s arrival, moved into the house, and remained indoors for the rest of their days.
Two Indoor Kingdoms
For years, with Blossom, Millennium, and Tiny indoors, we needed two cat countries.
In those days Blossom was the Kitchen Cat and she “had” us at meal times, three times a day. Millennium and Tiny were Living Room Cats who “had” us for movies and couch cuddles. Tiny eventually transferred her devotion to Millennium; you can see her in the picture above playfully swatting the elderly Millennium while she napped.
Milennium died after a long, fruitful, controlling life. After she left, Tiny and Blossom eyed each other warily through the kitchen door. They seem to even perhaps realize they might need one another. So, sometimes, we put up a Kmart baby gate. Tiny ate when Blossom ate, just on the other side of the gate.
This uneasy peace lay on the land until January 2020, when Blossom’s aged body could no longer function, and the vet euthanized her humanely in her bed, in the kitchen, surrounded by family.
One Cat
In 2021, Tiny is now an only cat, and she is blooming in the security and attention that role brings. She rules the kitchen and the living room, listening intently to the guardian dogs’ barking, the chickens’ clucking, and all the sounds of the Wild Outside where she no longer lives, residing instead in peace on her tuffets.