This has been an unusually sunny November in Upstate NY. Which is good for someone like me who thrives when the sky is blue and sun is shinning. And good for the cats and donkeys and chickens who find the protected areas of the farm, a south facing wall of the house or barn and soak up the sun. ( I don’t see the sheep doing this, they seem to constantly graze)
Minnie spends a lot of time under my studio, but when the sun is shinning she has a few spots she favors. One is near the wood shed and another by the Lilac bush on the side of the house. I think she feel safe in these places, she doesn’t have to run far for protection. I know even if I can’t find her, Minnie is never far away. She comes running when I call her. I guess because now when I call her something good always happens, she’s either getting fed or taken in the house. I’ve never had a cat that was so responsive to her name.
Since Minnie had her leg amputated, we spend much more time together and we’ve bonded in a new way. I haven’t gotten this close to a cat in many years, if ever. I’m not sure where it’s going to go. When Minnie can get around better, and can climb and jump we may decide not to bring her in the house at night. She may not want to come in when the weather gets warmer again. If that happens, things between us will probably go back to the way they were. The arrangement we have now does feel unnatural and temporary to me. Maybe that’s just because it’s new. I’ve always been drawn to the independent part of cats. But maybe this new relationship with Minnie has opened up a part of me that’s been shut down. Maybe with time, I’ll actually understand what I’m feeling when I scoop Minnie up from the barn floor and bring her in at night, and maybe I won’t be afraid to feel it.