Donerail Farm
Life On the Farm
(Still under construction. Check back often for more stories.)
The Attack Cat
My black and white male cat Bubba is very un-catlike. I inadvertently imprinted him at birth and he follows me around like a dog and meows for me to pick him up or pet him. When I clean stalls, he lounges on the windowsill and when I get close enough, will reach out and "bat" me to get my attention and beg some petting.
The horses are tolerant of Bubba, regarding him as hardly significant enough to even register a blip on the equine consciousness.
Until one day.
I had been riding my new (at the time) mare, Nanja in the arena. I had stopped for a minute to talk to someone and Bubba had wandered out to view the proceedings from the sidelines. (He knew that sometimes really wonderful things called LUNGE WHIPS would be flying around in there and they were wonderful game to stalk, although the meat of the actual LUNGE WHIP was hardly worth eating, being scrawny and stringy. But they were lively quarry and fun to pursue, even if they weren't good eating.) I am sure Bubba was on the hunt for the elusive LUNGE WHIP on this day.
However, to his dismay, the LUNGE WHIP was lying dead in the arena this day. So, as I sat on Nanja and talked, he strolled over and stared up at me adoringly. I, however, engrossed in my conversation, did not pay him enough attention. (In his opinion, I guess.)
Bubba, tired of being ignored, decided to jump in my lap. The only problem being was that my "lap" was, at the moment, about five feet in the air aboard a horse. However, since they don't teach this sort of practical matter where he went to school, Bubba did not stop to think about force, mass and his trajectory (not to mention gravity) before he launched himself in an enthusiastic leap in search of the LAP. Had he had time to consult NASA, he would have realized he made quite a few errors in his calculations. (None of which having to do with the practical knowledge that a furry predator with claws should never launch itself at a horse's midsection. Bubba most certainly does NOT view himself as a furry predator.)
Suddenly Nanja was aware of a cat sized blip on the radar screen that WAS significant enough to register on her EQUINE RADAR SCREEN.
And it was headed right for her midsection.
In about a nanosecond, roughly a million years of instinct suddenly registered on every single one of Nanja's brain cells. And they all screamed the same thing: "MOUNTAIN LION AT NINE O'CLOCK!!!"
I, of course, was blissfully unaware of these CATaclysmic (so to speak) forces hurtling through space, about to meet.
I felt a thump as Bubba hit about my knee level, surely looking like Wiley Coyote as his ACME rocket propels him JUST shy of the butte he is trying to scale.
At the same time, Nanja flew sideways in the opposite direction as if all the demons from hell were after her. (Which proves the law of physics that states “for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.” Bubba did not know about this little law of physics, either.)
Bubba decided my lap was not a prudent destination at this time, and he totally forgot about hunting LUNGE WHIPS as he flew, as if, indeed, propelled by an ACME rocket launcher, to the safety and tranquility of the barn.
I was happily in no danger of being dumped as a result
of this physics experiment gone wrong, but I did almost fall off from laughing
so hard.
An Almost Tragic Cat Story, June, 1999My black and white spotted Momcat had been missing for a few days and I was thinking “Oh, perfect - just when I was about to take her to get fixed, she wanders off.” Very unlike her, especially since she had two kittens that, although they are OLD enough to be weaned, none of them seem to be in any hurry to do so. Despite the fact they were about 12 weeks old! (And the only reason she ended up having kittens in the first place was that she just didn't look old enough to be spayed when she wandered up....obviously I was wrong!)
I had been driving my dad’s little Honda Civic while they are in Colorado for the summer - better gas mileage and to save wear and tear on my new truck.
I thought I detected a faint odor of cat urine when I was running an errand and thought “no way - no cats have been in here.”
Just happened to make WalMart one of the stops and when I came out, someone had stacked a whole row of baskets on the driver side, so I decided to put my stuff in the trunk. Imagine my amazement when I opened the trunk and there was a very scared Momcat!! I slammed the trunk quickly (didn’t want to chase her around the WM parking lot!) and zoomed for home, frantically trying to think of HOW she got in the TRUNK!!
It finally dawned on me I’d gotten feed two days previous and driven the car into the barn and unloaded the feed. She MUST have jumped in the trunk at that point, and when I shut it, I did not see her.
So she was in the trunk for TWO WHOLE DAYS with no water. In June. In Houston. I about died when I figured this out (still on the way home from Wal-Mart) and was thinking I was probably going to have to take her to the animal emergency clinic - envisioning IV fluids, etc.
Got home, opened up the trunk and poor Momcat was crouched flat in the trunk, terrified. I got her out and took her to some water but she had no interest in it - she had to find her kittens. They came running and there was a joyful family reunion, with much licking all around - only then would Momcat drink any water.
Momcat turned out to be perfectly
fine. I cringe to think of all the “what ifs.” What if I had stopped
using the car and started driving my truck to work? What if I didn’t
park in a parking garage where the car stays relatively cool during the
day? What if those shopping carts weren’t blocking my car door???
And on and on..... As far as Momcat... one down, eight more to go.