“Let’s go for a walk,” said the man of the house. “Okay. Let me put on my snake boots and grab my camera.” Off we went through the tall dry prairie grass. We went over the hill and walked around the dead fallen cottonwood trees. We stepped over logs that made good homes for little critters and looked for wildflowers scattered among the weeds and grasses. On the horizon the mountains still had a bit of snow in some of the valleys and high peaks. In a fallen tree was a hollow space, or it would have been had there not been a yellow cat peering out of a knot. She (we assumed) was small, dressed in golden yellow fur, with a white neck and belly. After eyeing us warily, she quickly ducked down with the tips of her ears showing above her eyes of gold.
Sometime later, the little cat appeared in our rock pile. Somewhere under the pile of big rocks she made a den. Whenever she saw us, she immediately disappeared. There were days she peeked out of the rocks, and for days at a time there was no sign of her except for some paw prints in the dirt.
Winter was well on its way. I worried about the little thing surviving the winter and being able to find food. Did we want a feral cat living in the rocks and populating the countryside? No. Did we want a good mouser to keep away prairie mice, pack rats, voles, and gophers? You betcha! Since we had an issue with some nasty packrats and voles, I made a decision – I would start feeding her on occasion.
Every evening I put food outside the basement door. She was skittish and would not appear if there was any human sign at all. As I fed her each day, I chattered away at her just like she was a person. After a while, I wore her down and she crept a bit closer each day. One evening, she walked toward me and gently brushed against my leg. This went on for some time until I got brave enough to try and touch her tail. Talk about a wildcat! However, she started her own routine. She would tiptoe a few feet from her rock house, lay down in the dirt and roll. Progress!
I refused to be defeated. Even after she had started playing with my feet I still had to put on a suit of armor and heavy leather gloves in my attempt to pet her. One day I was feeling quite optimistic.
I scooped her up being sure to hold her front legs so she couldn’t claw me. She didn’t like it even a little bit, but I just talked to her, “How are you today little cat? You look so pretty today. Did you see the meadowlarks and hear their pretty song? Now you don’t bother them! Did you see the deer in the yard? What’s on your agenda for the day?” She never answered.
Stay tuned for the rest of the story…….
