Cats

We've always had cats. Beginning with two adorable kittens that accompanied us on the way home from our honeymoon, we've always had the furry little devils under foot. We've cussed them and the messes they make, and enjoyed their antics and soft warm fur. When we first moved to Oregon and didn't bother to connect the TV antenna, we spent our evenings watching Paws, a male tabby, entertain us with his interpretation of uses for a cardboard box. Cats kept our daughter company when we lived so far out in the country she didn't have a playmate. They kept our barn (relatively) rodent free, and played havoc with Steve's shop. . . routinely  leaving messes he patiently cleaned up.

It seems strange, now that we are on the road so much of the year and no longer have a cat in residence. Maybe being "catless" is why we are so tolerant of the felines that cruse through the yard as if they owned the place.

We were highly entertained a couple of months ago when a mother tabby boldly led her three kittens down from the back of the property to our compost bin. She sat patiently while they explored for about ten minutes, then gathered them up and herded them off to the next scheduled stop on the field trip. Many evenings we watch a big red tom as he carefully navigates his way along the stone wall that marks the front of our property. Then there's the somewhat homely little tortoiseshell calico that creeps shyly up through the cactus patch, checking carefully along the way to be sure no one pounces on her. She clearly has been caught by surprise by one of Kendra's dogs when the lived here, as Molly pays little attention to any of them. They all look like they belonged here. . .  and maybe they do.

I was reading one of my dad's old Desert Rat Scrap Books the other day (packet one of pouch nine) and found this:
Cats keep snakes away from desert ranches. Few cats kill snakes, but they eat the same food as the snake, making it poor hunting for Mr. Snake, who moves on.

Now, I have no idea if this is true, but it sounds plausible, and certainly is a good excuse for leaving those furry critters unmolested as they explore the perimeters of the ranch.