Captain’s Log - Making Friends

Two years ago, when it was still only me and Clio and the bunnies at the Boyer Bunny Ranch, it became apparent we had a mouse problem in the garage. The search for a cat to assist was begun in earnest at about the same time that Garrett’s mom, Joyce passed away. She had two cats that Garrett and Allison had to find an home for so I gladly volunteered. 

Trouble was, although they lived in the house, there was no catching them. The story of how they showed up in my garage with a huge water dispenser and a bigger food dispenser, and an even bigger litter box is a story for Allison to tell. Suffice it to say soon there were no mice in my garage. 

But it was six months before I ever saw said mousers. To say they were wild was an understatement. The only evidence of the existence of the elusive hunters was a full litter box once a week and the dead carcass of lizards and small birds scattered near the back door of the garage. 

One day, about a year after their arrival, I left that garage door open when I went to town and coming home in the dark allowed the headlights to illuminate the inside of the garage long enough to see the quick flash of a large black cat dash back behind the Christmas decorations. It was several months later when digging for something related to fixing a chicken pen that out of the corner of my eye the flash of beautiful long, Siamese cat hair darting behind a shelf confirmed the other cat was still with us. 

Last summer when Hector and Mikey came to help with the mice in the bunny shed, they seemed to convince the garage cats that life at the Bunny Ranch wasn’t so bad and there were several more sightings of the elusive ones as they ventured out across the yard from time to time. 

With this new batch of rescue kittens that came this summer, Buckley and Samuel, Ernest and Jack, the entire place has become their domain. They’ve brought together the shed mousers and the garage mousers with their antics as they leap from tree to roof to chicken pen and race across the yard, roll through the grass and take ownership of choice perches in the garage. Every morning as I feed the kittens near the front door of the house, the garage cats come sit in front of the garage politely waiting for me to take their food to their dish under the work table. 

This morning, the black cat forgot himself and came right up to me as I leaned in to pour his food and I could hear him purring. As easy as possible my reach extended to scratch behind his ears, and he stopped and let me give him a good little pet. Of course, his nervous friend took one look at that from the shadows and turned tail and fled into the dark recesses. But I’m going to get her too, you watch. 

So, as we slowly make friends of the work cats, and protect the peacocks from the biggest coyote you’ve ever seen, a story for next week, we’ll always be right here…

… Keeping you Posted. 

Rach