Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Where's Trick?

When I pull the wheelbarrow out from under the tarp and find him sleeping there, I wish Trick the Cat was black or white or yellow -- any color other than the browns, tans and blacks of a raccoon or groundhog.

After all these years, you'd think I'd become accustomed to the barn cat showing up almost anywhere. But he still startles me when I find him curled among the feed bags I'm about to move or among the tomato plants I'm about to pick.

By now, I should always assume he'll be in the middle of farm life, wherever that may be.

He often spends the night on the hay and straw bales.

Not only are they soft, warm and dry, but they provide a prime view of the horses and sheep in the barn.

In the dawn's light, he surveys his kingdom.

Telling the chickens and sheep to look at him. And they do because they've been ambushed by him on numerous occasions.

He likes to groom himself atop the fence -- and usually plays a game of chase-my-tail where he wraps himself around the top board.

If I'm working the dogs on sheep, he waits in the tall grass and pounces the Border collie (something I have yet to get on film).

Lunging the horses? No problem, he'll roll near their path. They'll move for him.

Then, he's on to torment the chickens.

A few cockerels notice the intruder, but when Trick doesn't react to them, they go back to eating tomatoes -- which don't challenge them.

 I never know if he likes to torment the chickens or if he is hoping a sparrow will land nearby.

When the sun heats the day, he retreats to the garden where he sleeps among the parsnips....

awaiting a human to torment and rub against.

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