Barn Cat

We've had Passage, our barn cat, since our early days at Aspen Meadows.

She made the move up here with us and quickly settled into the new barn.

I don't have many photos of her because she is always in motion.

When we first got her, she was quite aloof.  Her mother had been a feral cat (dad most likely too), and she wasn't much interested in human company.  But, after we moved up here she became very affectionate.

She follows me into the garden when I'm working there and complains until I take a break from pruning and hold her.  She will let just about anyone hold her now.

She even sits in Brett's lap.  He swears he hates cats, and she hated people -- go figure.  They adore each other now.

Passage Gives Us a Scare

Passage (the dressage/French pronunciation: puh-sahj) is our barn cat.  She's a savvy thing; surviving for fifteen years with hawks and bobcats and other cat-eating predators around.  She has two beds in the feed room -- one by the window that she uses in summer, and one up high in a crate lined with blankets that she uses in winter.  At night, we close up the barn and she goes to work killing any rats or mice stupid enough to enter her domain.  During the day, she rests in the hay stack or out in the sun.  She is very friendly and can be quite vocal if she isn't getting her share of attention.  She will join us in the garden or on the front porch, when we are taking a break.

Saturday evening, Brett couldn't find her when we finished chores and he closed the barn doors.  We noted it, but didn't worry too much, as it isn't the fist time she has gone AWOL at closing time. 

Later, after dinner was finished and the dishes done, Brett was watching TV in his recliner, with his headphones on, while I sat on the couch, in the other room with my feet stretched out.  I was talking via Skype with my French "talk"-pal.  I practice my French; she practices her English; 30 minutes of conversation in each language.  A full hour of discussion that leaves my mind in an exhausted mush.  Kersey was asleep, in her crate, with her head hanging out, next to Brett.

I heard a cat screech.  You know the sound: cat fight.  Then it got louder, and shriller, and contained an edge that I can only call fear and panic.  I jerked my head up from my computer screen and called to Brett.  He couldn't hear me of course, with his headphones on.  I jumped to my feet and stood directly in front of him.  "Brett!!!"  He looked up, then yanked off his headphones.  "What??"  I explained.  He grabbed his flashlight and went outside.

I apologized to Dominique.  She got a good dose of an English native speaker in panic mode.  I'm sure it was quite the ride as I carried my iPad with me around the house, telling Kersey to stay, and explaining to Brett in rapid-fire words that Passage was under attack.   

Brett didn't find Passage, despite going out two more times that night.  Sunday morning, we both walked the property and checked all her hiding places in the barn.  There was nothing.  I took some comfort in not finding any fur or body parts.

Mid-afternoon, I heard her calling to me from a large oak that stands in my garden.  She has climbed into the lower limbs of that tree before, but this time she could not get herself down.  She perched on the lowest limb and cried in a worried voice.  Brett went to the barn and came back with his long ladder. I climbed up and brought her down.  The minute I had her cradled against my shoulder and had started the descent, she was purring.  We sat in the garden with her for awhile.  She wound through and against our legs, purring, and then went into my flower garden and peed forever.  We stood, and  got back to work on our projects.  I planted some flowers and she slept in the sun on the warm bark next to my planter box.  At one point, I reached down to stroke her side and she yowled at me before flipping over.  So, something hurt.

She didn't move from that spot for an hour and a half.  At one point, I went over to make sure she wasn't dead. She doesn't normally take long naps out in the open.  She raised her head and looked at me, then let it rest.  I figured she was exhausted from her night in the tree.  At closing time, I picked her up and carried her to the barn.  She complained the whole way, clearly uncomfortable.  I set her down outside her crate bed and she sat there for a minute, before walking slowly and stiffly inside.

We worried about her all night.  I thought to myself: First the chicken massacre, then the goat, and now Passage.  I can't handle losing another animal this winter.

Monday morning, I went to the barn early, before getting dressed for work.  I slid open the door and flipped on the light.  Passage was standing in the barn aisle, meowing at me in her typical plaintive way.  She was walking a bit stiffly, but she was definitely doing better.

She spent most of the day in her bed, coming out to eat and drink.  She's safely recuperating in the barn and I am confident she will be back to her normal self soon.  She has a barn to patrol, after all.



The Barn Cat

I never write about our barn cat and she's a bit irritated about that.  After all, with the exception of Flash, we've had her the longest of any of our animals.

When we were in Southern California, and built Aspen Meadows, we almost immediately had a rodent problem in the barn.  We got a kitten which lasted two weeks before the dog got her (not Kersey of course), then two more who quickly succumbed to feline leukemia.  We swore off of rescue kittens at that point and set traps for the rats.  We were regularly catching big rats and some mice when we learned that our neighbor's feral cat had kittens.  We offered to take two, a brother and sister.  I named them after two dressage movements, Passage and Volte.  I wanted to name them Piaffe and Passage but the kids vetoed Piaffe (pronounced PEE-off).  So we named Passage's brother Volte (Volte-A) instead.  Passage (Puh-sahj) was a great hunter and kept the barn rodent free.  Volte caught a couple lizards but mostly he liked to purr in your lap or sleep.  After a few years he started leaving for days at a time, returning sleek, groomed and well-fed.  One day he didn't return at all and we assume he moved on to the cushy life of being someone's house cat.  Passage didn't care, she was aloof, skittish and independent.   She was happy in the barn and didn't appear to miss her brother one bit.  She ran off every other cat that ventured onto the property.

We brought her with us to Oak Creek Ranch.  Initially, we kept her in the feed room in the barn where she had her den (cat carrier) and summer bed (by the window).  After a few weeks, we let her explore the entire barn and eventually just go where she wanted.  We crossed our fingers that she would survive on our new ranch with its frequent visits by wildlife.

Passage is now 12 or 13.  She has become an extremely affectionate cat since the move, meowing for attention in the barn and following us around the property.  She doesn't curl up in your lap, purring, for hours but she happily weaves in-and-out of your legs, with an occasional jump up onto your lap for just a minute or two.

She continues to be an awesome huntress.  We never find rodents (except the dead "gifts" she leaves by the tack room door) in the barn.  She is particularly skilled at nabbing gophers and will spend hours watching a hole in the ground, before pouncing on the gopher foolish enough to stick his head out.  We've also seen her dragging off squirrels and rabbits -- which are bigger than she is and makes for quite a sight.

All Together Now

This morning both Lucy and Jackson were much improved.  Lucy came trotting to the gate for her morning bucket of vitamins, floating across the pasture in fine princess style.  I could watch her trot all day.  Jackson wasn't trotting but he wasn't doing a bad imitation of a canter pirouette anymore either.  He was walking pretty well; well enough that I took off his boot and skipped the bute.
He looked pretty bad yesterday:

Brett and I decided to check out a couple of wineries after running chores this morning.  We love the small boutique wineries, run by passionate people who aren't in it to sell truckloads of wine.  The first winery we went to was recommended to us by friends.  We spent a long time there, talking, tasting, and learning about his wines.  They were excellent.

After a pizza lunch on the creek in Sutter Creek, we went to the next winery.  The owner-winemaker had turned his garage into a tasting room.  He looked like John Denver; he had that same goofy intensity and big grin, and his name is the same as Brett's oldest grandson.  We won't forget him -- or his wines; big and jammy without being sweet.

Last we went to a small winery, turning off a back road onto a narrow gravel road.  The tasting room was deserted.  Rusty vehicles and weeds covered the property.  As we were turning to leave, the owner ran into the barn and poured us a glass of zinfandel.  Bleh.

We got home and started on chores.  Brett killed weeds in my garden while I put fresh shavings in the chickens' laying boxes.  I noticed one of the chickens up on the ladder roost, covered in blood from a wound on her neck.  This happened earlier this month and she healed; it looks like she is being tormented again.  We've had hens peck at each others' backs before, but never a neck wound like this.  Do any of you chicken owners out there have a guess?  Could it be a rooster?  I set her up in a dog crate and then we fed the horses and mucked the pastures.

Lucy and Pistol eat their hay from their hay feeder.

Jackson eats his a small distance away.

Tonight Passage was in their pasture.  See her to the left of Jackson?

She's guarding a gopher hole.

That cat is worth her weight in gold.

Wait!  You forgot us!  (nice try boys).

It Feels Like Summer

I know summer is still more than two weeks away, officially, but I'm telling you: summer is here.  The days are hot.  The early mornings are nice and cool so we get up early and ride then.  The afternoon is a total loss.  The temperatures climb and climb and climb, reaching their peak at around 5pm.

Passage follows the shade, whether that is in my garden or under the butterfly bush.

The geldings spend their time under the oak trees.

And the mares are spending the middle of the day in the barn.  They don't have trees in their pasture and the large oak nearest their fence doesn't throw shade until later in the day.

Lucy is settling in well.  She seems to like it here at Oak Creek Ranch.

And Winston left for his new home on Monday.  I'm sure he's loving the attention he is getting from his new owner.

Random 5 Friday

Passage has been complaining that she isn't featured enough in this blog.  She's joining us today.

1.  Theresa asked if we have considered a wireless fence to keep Kersey inside the property.  We had two neighbors at Aspen Meadows who used those systems.  When they worked, they worked well but it seemed like they rarely worked.  And a smart dog, like Sedona's boyfriend Zeus, can figure out how to evade the shock.  Kersey found a new spot to wiggle under the fence yesterday, Brett suffered numerous puncture wounds from the wire, and the horses scraped the tractor with their teeth.  I tried to mitigate the damage with dinner.  All his favorites: salmon, potatoes and sauteed mushrooms.

2.  Today they measured the snow pack in the Sierras.  We are at 20% of normal for the first of January.  We are at 7% of where we need to be by April 1st.  The hills are still brown and we should have turned green in December.  We desperately need rain.  Restrictions on water use have been imposed in many counties.

3.  I saw this quote today.  I think it is equally applicable to life in general and to riding.

The inner struggle is extremely difficult for all of us,

because we all have faults,

severe ones, that we will struggle with forever...

It's wise to accept that faults are inevitable.

Factor that in and keep going.

--Alice Walker 

4.  We have been putting the dogs in the barn at night.  They don't bark.  They hate it.  Last night, Sedona tried to avoid following me into the barn at bedtime.  Once inside, she took her treat and then ran to all the doors to see if she could get out.  We've had comments from four other neighbors telling us that our dogs don't bark anymore than anyone else's, that we live in the country, and that we shouldn't worry about this neighbor's complaints.  We are torn.  It does seem silly -- the dogs bark and chase away raccoon and fox but are otherwise quiet.  We like that they chase off critters.  But we don't want bad feelings between us and the neighbor.

5.  Katy has invited me to sit with her and a group of local dressage folks at the California Dressage Society annual meeting symposium in a few weeks.  I'm so excited to be linking into the horse community (and perhaps making some horsey friends), it isn't even funny.  

Katy demonstrating the work she's been doing with Winston

I've been thinking all day about those of you living back east.  I hope you have power, I hope you are warm, and I hope you don't have to do much more shoveling (Lori).

Hanging Out in the Barn

Our neighbor, Cindy, got us an appointment with her farrier today.  He's very good but he wasn't taking on any new clients.  She begged and pleaded on our behalf and he agreed to give us a try.  Brett vacuumed out the last bits of debris in the stalls and brought the horses in so they would be ready for their trims.  Brett wanted to have the horses settled in the barn when the farrier, Greg, arrived.  While the horses checked out their new digs, Brett put up their name plates and hung their halters.

Jackson couldn't believe his luck.  A stall!  Of his own!  At Aspen Meadows, he was out in the paddock and he missed being in the barn with the others.  It was better for his feet to be in the paddock so when Mufasa arrived we gave away his stall.  Sorry Jackson.  Are you happy now?

Greg said that Jackson's hooves are nice and hard.  He said that it was a real shame that Jackson is insulin resistant, at such a young age, and that he's an exceptionally sweet horse. (I knew that).  Jackson has been doing great since we moved into Oak Creek Ranch and I'm hoping that he does well over the winter.  His weight is perfect and he's trotting around with no pain.  Keep it up Jackson.

Flash was non-plussed by the whole affair.  Ho-hum, he's seen it all.  A new stall and a new farrier aren't worth getting excited about.  His trim was uneventful.  The thing that does get his attention is the flash on the camera.  He hates it. Can you tell?

Winston thought his stall was the rumpus room.  He tried to get his halter off the hook, he played in his automatic waterer and he chewed on the wood..  His feet are strong and healthy.  No surprise.  He was a little nervous about Greg handling his hind feet but he'll get over that.  He's always nervous around new vets, farriers, and dentists.

Greg's favorite horse was Mufasa.  He loved Mufasa's large soft eyes, his kindness and his calmness.  Not to mention what a beautiful boy he is.  Greg pulled his hind shoes and we'll see how he does over the winter.  He'll always have to have shoes on the front because of the quarter crack on his front hoof.

 Brett and Greg hit it off big time.  No surprise there.  Brett always gets along well with our farriers.  Greg said he would be happy to continue working with our horses and Brett has a new friend.  He's collecting them faster than I can keep track.  It's great -- we're getting dinner and pot luck invitations, neighbors feed carrots to our horses, and Marv toots his horn when ever he drives by.

Passage supervised from her perch above the tack room.

Sunday Stills: Cats

We have just one cat, Passage.  (Pronounced like the French word: "Puh-sahj").  Mouser, squirreler, gopher grabber extraordinaire.  And she's a lovebug to boot.

Bella is a Brat

The weather this week has been very warm and sunny.  Bella has been enjoying the sunshine and snacking on my apple trees.  She seems to have a particular love of apple trees.  I am not happy about this.  She has already stripped one tree and now she's working on the Fuji. 

Passage was also enjoying the sunshine; snoozing and stretching on the stump we use as a table by the wash rack.

Life is good for the critters -- just not for the trees.

Bella's Busy Day

Wednesday, while Brett was busy building the baby chicks a brooder, Bella was out and about.  The green grass, budding cottonwood branches and the sounds of activity in the barn were more than she could stand.  She jumped the goat fence and trotted down to where Brett was working, snacking on her way.

Winston watched her arrival.

The neighbor's cat likes to hide under the hay shed.

Greeting the rabbits.

Passage was out and about.  They weren't too sure about each other.

She spent some time snacking on the hillside with Winston before heading back to the goat area. 

Her twin brother, Little Bear, was obviously distressed by her absence.

Or not.

Earning Her Keep

Friday while I was hanging out in the orchard, Passage jumped out of the boulders and ran past me.

I went closer to see what she had caught.  Gopher.

These pesky rodents eat the roots of young trees and anything else they can get to.  Passage is worth her weight in gold.  She not only keeps the rodent population down in the barn, she hunts gophers in the orchard.

And then she relaxes.