Category Archives: Cats


Grace lives in a house with nine other cats–five of them sharing the same inside space. Most of them are pretty mellow and they get along okay. None of them are buddies. Good napping spots are at a premium, and all of the best ones (like the sunbeam coming in the front door or the top berth on the cat condo by the livingroom fireplace) are quickly taken when abandoned by their previous occupant. So sometimes you have to get creative when you need some alone time.

Why is this important? Privacy is becoming a scarce commodity. Get it when you can.

Evil Twins

Lillie and Lincoln

I call them the Evil Twins. Well, they’re not really evil, although there have been times when they’ve committed such devilry that one would wonder.

Why is this important? I sometimes think that my farm must be part of some underground homeless cat route. You know, where word quietly goes out that some eccentric old woman will give you free room and board simply because you’re furry. I have 10 cats, all of whom were once part of that underground homeless cat route. Each showed up outside my gate, or in a tree or, geez, maybe a mile away, paw outstretched but dignity intact.

Take these two, for example. Lille (left) marched her 3-month self into the middle of the road about a mile from my house just as I was walking by on my daily perambulation. I picked her up (big mistake) and took her over to the nearest doorstep where I lovingly placed her, sure that her owner would be grateful to have the kitten out of harm’s way. Three days later, out into the road marches this kitten again, except we are on a different road and a long way from our previous encounter. I don’t know what idiot would let a kitten fend for itself in a rural area where coyotes and fox hunt at night and cars speed along by day. So I reach down and pick her up, tuck her under my arm, and turn to walk back home.

“Wait,” she says. “You’re forgetting my brother.”

“You have a brother?” I turn and look behind me.

Emerging from the tall grass alongside the road, her twin scampers toward me, confident that she has secured passage for them both to the place of free room and board. I reach down again and scoop Lincoln into my other arm, waddling now as I make my way back to the farm. There’s always room for one more. Or two.