I walked by my neighbour's farm to get to the post box yesterday. I looked up the drive-way and there she was waving and calling me over. We had a chat about chickens and cats and her front yard wild flowers. I mentioned I had ten pumpkins to give her for her chickens. "Ooooooh, they'll love that.", she said. Six of her cats waited by the back steps for the lunch she was about to offer them. "I don't give them dry food, she said. Nothin' in it. I give them real food." She said she had just boiled some eggs for them and the dog and mixed that with last night's chicken skin and gravy along with bread and a bit of milk. Boy, that brought back memories of my grandmother. The cats were ready and anxious for that meal.
Lucy's cats are cared for like most barn cats I come across. They are fed well, are expected to keep the mice down but are not fixed. :( That's why there are twelve running around and they all resemble each other in some way. Most are grey, some with stripes and some with full steel-coloured coats like Audrey.
I boldly asked her if she had ever considered fixing her barn cats and her reply was upsetting but not anything I hadn't heard before. "Too many things can happen to them in the country. And the road is so close." No, no...much too expensive and for what?" She quickly jumped to another subject and left my concern for the cats to be my problem.
She sent me home with a bag full of beautiful tomatoes, ready for eating, from her vegetable garden. She had a great crop just like we did. "Now, be sure you eat them and come back for tea next time", she said, waving as she headed to one of her barns.
I came home troubled as you can well expect. I know it's not my business and how the heck do you change the mind of an eighty year old woman, anyway. Still, I feel I should continue to talk about it; fit it into the conversation somehow. Maybe it will get her thinking and that is the first step, isn't it?
"You are nosy."
We are out of your freeze-dried chicken treats, love. You'll have a few less calories today.
"I hate my life...
=^..^=
hugs, Deb
Lucy's cats are cared for like most barn cats I come across. They are fed well, are expected to keep the mice down but are not fixed. :( That's why there are twelve running around and they all resemble each other in some way. Most are grey, some with stripes and some with full steel-coloured coats like Audrey.
I boldly asked her if she had ever considered fixing her barn cats and her reply was upsetting but not anything I hadn't heard before. "Too many things can happen to them in the country. And the road is so close." No, no...much too expensive and for what?" She quickly jumped to another subject and left my concern for the cats to be my problem.
She sent me home with a bag full of beautiful tomatoes, ready for eating, from her vegetable garden. She had a great crop just like we did. "Now, be sure you eat them and come back for tea next time", she said, waving as she headed to one of her barns.
I came home troubled as you can well expect. I know it's not my business and how the heck do you change the mind of an eighty year old woman, anyway. Still, I feel I should continue to talk about it; fit it into the conversation somehow. Maybe it will get her thinking and that is the first step, isn't it?
"You are nosy."
"And where's my treats today?"
"I hate my life...
hugs, Deb