The Barn Cat now known as George

Do you recall my post called 3 short stories about critters who came to visit?

In Story #1, I mentioned a visiting cat who was leaving footprints on my stock tank ice:

and only allowing brief glimpses of himself:

He was the one I wanted to call "Barn Cat".

Well, we've gotten to know this little guy a bit more since I wrote that post:

We've learned he enjoys napping under our kitchen porch:

He has been here so often these last few weeks. He acts like he owns the (our) place, but any overture from us would make him freeze and then run away:

I saw him hanging out by the blueberry patch the other day, watching the donkeys in their pasture. For the first time, when I called out to him...he meowed back. That's when he stole my heart:

I found a tin of kitty food in the cupboard and took it outside, where he gobbled it up. To thank me, I was allowed to pet him. sigh:


We have been enjoying this cat's work for a while now. Our mouse population up at the barn has dwindled to almost nothing since he's been visiting us and this makes us very happy.

I had a feeling he might belong to a neighbor up the hill, so I gave this neighbor a call. Turns out, this neighbor moved away almost four weeks ago! No wonder Barn Cat has been hanging out in my barn and eating mice, nobody has been feeding him for four weeks.

At my questioning, I was able to find out from stupid-neighbor-who-abandons-animals that Barn Cat is a neutered male cat who goes by the name of George. George is almost 10 years old and lives exclusively outside. Stupid-neighbor-who-abandons-animals asked me if I'd like to assume the care of George. Without hesitation I said yes.

I put a bowl of food out up at the barn the next day and, when I called, George came right away:

He didn't even mind when I decided to sit with him while he had his meal:

After his snack, he sharpened his claws on the pallet I was sitting on:

When I got up to go feed the goats, I figured George would go about his day, but he decided to accompany me down the barn driveway:

and then back up the hill to the goat house. Noting the SEVEN significantly sized mole hills on the way, we had a short discussion about how his responsibilities had just been increased to fight the moles as well as the mice here on the property:

Pete and Reggie had no idea what that black fur ball was following me:

Pete was brave for about a heartbeat. This picture was taken about one second before he turned tail and ran through the goat house and out into his run:

Scaredy-goats:

Reggie refused to come back inside:

When it was time to feed the chickens, George decided to come, too:

Instant silence and verrrrrry long necks greeted us:

George took it all in stride, but the girls were all clearly gossiping about him:

The fact that I have a cat following me around is kind of a big deal. We don't "do" cats here. It's not that I don't love them, I'm just terribly, horribly allergic.

But, apparently, we've got a cat now. Or he has us. Either way, Critter Farm population has increased by one. His name is George:

I ♥ him already.