I don’t know how many of my dear readers know this, but I was raised on a farm in Southwestern Ontario. To answer the first question I always get, no, we do not have any animals; the only animal raised on our farm was my brother. My Dad grows soybeans and wheat so there are about 300 acres of land out there. My parents live so far out into the country, you can’t see their nearest neighbours.
With farm life comes a whole category of things many people don’t anticipate about living on the fringes of civilization. Like the pests…
It seems, since the last time I visited, my parents were taken by a particularly bad infestation of KITTENS!
They are too cute! There was a litter of six that are at that particularly fluffy stage of their kitten-hood.
A lot of my ‘city friends’ don’t know that, when you live out of town, people will just drop cats off at your farm. I think it is really sad, but I never managed to get too upset about it since we gained another cat. These kittens are from a litter of those outside.
I think these kittens are the issue of one of the toughest tomcats that has ever come onto our farm. I don’t have a picture of him, but that is probably a good thing. He is getting up there in age and not looking the best lately. This cat was christened Goofy, because his tail always twitched up towards his back like a scorpion whenever anyone would pet him; my Dad and I always thought it was particularly funny. He was a kitten that was born on our farm and has stuck with us. He occasionally goes on walk-about, but always comes back. He is getting closer to ten years old now, and if you know anything about barn cats, you’ll know this is totally unheard of. He has been the longest lived barn cats I have ever seen.
Paul and I took our time getting pictures of all the kittens and I felt really strong when I managed not to come home with one. If I end up with one more cat, I can officially be labeled a crazy cat person.
Besides, I don’t think Chloe would tolerate a kitten. She is the baby and she knows it.