Three weeks ago our mother kitty Lilly Pons ran off with her two remaining kittens Fern and Templeton – the kittens my good friends Alice and Linda were waiting to adopt. It’s not odd for Lilly Pons to disappear for a week or two but the kittens were only three months old. All three of us were worried, to say the least. We had faith they would re-appear as long as something wild didn’t get them. (They've got those wild, country cat genes.) Last week, the kittens were spotted by a neighbor’s barn. After two weeks, Fern was captured and is living here now. Linda is on her way to pick her up to take her away to live with her other three cats in New Hampshire. Poor little Templeton is still in the miss. I am tempting him by leaving bits of tuna fish and cat food in the general area he has been spotted in hopes he will find it and eat something besides rodents. He has been spotted just recently so keep your fingers crossed. Lilly Pons has come home twice but is again in the miss.
Our giant cat BooBooBoo disappeared about a month ago. He never did go very far, preferring a cool spot in the garden for a nap or the food bowl in the kitchen. The last time he went to the vet he weighed in at 26 pounds – he was like a little bear cub, hence his name. He was up in age and so I expect he just went away to expire in peace. He came to live here when my friend Linda was moving to North Carolina. He was supposed to be a farm cat and live with my brother-in-law’s cows and help with the rodent situation. I brought him to our house first after picking him up from Linda and he ran to the basement and hid for six weeks. We fed him but never saw him. Finally, one day, he bounded up the stairs and joined the family. He was like a grandfather to the other cats, adopting each new set of kittens with kisses and kindness. RIP BooBooBoo. Here he is with his favorite friend Ginger – they used to sleep all cuddled together, arms entwined.
A couple weeks ago, we got a call at 10:30 at night from my sister-in-law Debbie. Jeremy, the guard llama, who was guarding the lambs down at the other farm got hit by a car (he had jumped the fence - who knows why). The police arrived and luckily noone was hurt. A llama can do a bit of damage to a car though, if you are wondering. Jeremy walked away from the scene, hopefully the wiser about large metal objects, although who knows. He has been laying low, mending his sore leg. He seems to be up and about now but he’s slower than before. The coyotes must have noticed his ailment because the other night, they killed two lambs. We’re hoping he gets his fighting legs back soon.
It must be coyote pup season. The little lamb that was born out in the pasture about six weeks ago was killed the other night. There has been a lot of coyote hooting and hollering of late. I guess everyone has to eat.
So, how’s that for romantic, peaceful, life on the farm?













































