"Feral ~ from feminine of ferus wild: having escaped from domestication and become wild"...




Tuesday

A girl cat named Isabel...and us


Although this old mighty huntress is now afraid to go outside ~ her eyesight being not so good ~ she is still keen enough to watch the bird feeder from indoors.

She had a rough start, this cat of ours ~ I found her in the haymow with her brothers one cold November night where I stable managed (only barn cats would have a litter of doom right before winter!).  By 5 weeks she needed to be separated as she was the runt, and was getting pummeled at the food dish.  We brought her to our Husband-to-be's house, but only after asking him on the phone the night before if he had ever given away a gift,  and he unsuspectingly had answered "no, not once".  I often fondly tell her stories of her tail-less mother, Jessica, long ago gone, another pretty purry cat who loved to ride your shoulder as you grained the horses.  Isabel however is not a cuddler, as it goes with feral barn cat behavior, and will nip you when shes had enough petting and doting...  But then she will always give you a tiny meow of "sorry, i couldnt help it",  looking at you with those big green eyes, imploringly you to forgive her, love her, be her friend again.


So we have a common bond, this old cat and I .  My youngest daughter once compared us. 

 "You both have green eyes, both of you are beautiful...and both of you are wild...."


And I think my daughter is following suit....

1 comment:

I am feral, so although I dont respond at all like most domesticated bloggers, I will try my best - Thank you for even wanting to leave a comment, as it may draw me out from the woods from whence I came!

Or under a rock, it depends most days...