When we fixed our barn cats, Kevin, my horse vet said that you spend money on those barn cats and they’ll be gone before you know it, but we could not afford more kitties, so off to Tails they went. Brave and Girl Cat ended up ghosting us, the loss a thud in my gut because I never knew what happened.
Tyger and Gray have grown into sleek, striped cats with scraggly, poufy tails and shiny coats. We take pleasure in watching them watching us from the barn. Mama cat watches from the shed. Sometimes they’ll lounge like young men at the beach. They climb the rafters like trees.
One night I woke at 2 am and saw Gray, sleeping next to the door. Even though they were born here, there’s no curling around our legs or reaching for our hands to stroke the sides of their faces. The closest I get is a quiet mew, which means, “Leave now, so I can eat.”
When I wake, I wonder if they made it through the night. Coyotes have howled behind the barn, so close I shouted at them, like I was banishing dogs, my heart thumping. Eagles have perched high in our poplar tree. So much danger. I can’t protect three beloved barn cats. I can only trust they know to stay hidden when the predators come. Every morning, I ask Bruce have you seen the cats today?
Think about it. This isn’t just about barn cats, is it?
I’m Katie Andraski and that’s my perspective.
