This weekend I stepped through the barn door and caught a glimpse of a small ball of fur scampering out of sight.
I was delighted. The tortoiseshell cat had been looking thinner for some time, but she has never let me touch her and neither had the two orange males, so I never stayed longer in the barn than to fill the food dish and water bowl. I always talked to them, of course, but only this one cat above would converse with me. The other orange cat has since gone missing and we think something has got it while it was out hunting.
This time I sat down on a pile of lumber and waited for the kittens to show themselves out of curiosity, which they did. There are four: two orange, one white and one black, and they are already big enough to be eating the solid food.
For the first time, the adult cat above was very friendly. He wanted to be petted and scratched, and he pressed against me and purred. Why the abrupt change in manner? Suddenly I’m not scary.
It was difficult to get a photo of the kittens because the moment I’d move, they’d run and hide. But yesterday when I went to the barn, they were snoozing in the window the cats like to sun in.
When I slid the door open they bolted, but I sat down and waited again, and just this one orange one got brave enough to come out:
I’ll be spending time out there every day now till I get them tamed. Then I’ll introduce them to Sadie, so that when eventually they leave the barn, she doesn’t catch and hurt them.