Sunday, November 08, 2009

The Stable Cat

Mommy met her first stable cat at the Balmoral Equestrian Centre on Friday. No, no, I don't mean a cat who isn't crazy. I mean a cat who lives in a stable with horses!

Mommy described him as a handsome and confident cat who walked with a swagger and was very comfortable with the horses. Mommy thinks that he thinks that he owns them.

Mommy said that the stable cat made it his business that morning to supervision their lessons with his horses.

He would follow them from the stables to the paddocks and even on to the field where they had lessons in leading his horses.

Mommy and her friends could not resist giving him some cuddles and he was clearly pleased with that because he purred and purred.

Have you ever met a stable cat?

~5-Cat Style


Sammy and Andy said...

Mombean says she's met quite a few barn cats in her life, but never actually any stable cats. We live too sheltered a life to get to do anything so interesting....sigh.....


Ginger Jasper said...

Sounds as though he has a realy interesting life. Friendly too. Looks like he likes a little fussing too,, Hugs GJ xx

Sweet Praline said...

I would be afraid of those big hooves!

Kaze, Latte, & Chase said...

We have 2 stable cats where our horse lives. They have no fear of the horses, they run under them and seem to have no idea those hooves HURT if they land on you. The stable cats sure do run the barn, they sleep in the hay, supervise riding of horses, and are treated like kings.


The Kool~Kittie~Krew said...

We've neffur met a stable cat before, but mom has met LOTS! She kinda had a horse growing up (she worked at a stable for about 6 years during the summer) and Cinnamin was hers while she was there. She says there were a ton of kitties around!

MoMo said...

Of course a stable cat owns the horses. I like your first assumption about a 'stable' cat. Hehehehe!

ro said...

Stable Cats
2 years ago I adopted three ferral cats aka stable cats as the stable cat rescue ad put it. They had been born in a scrap yard close to a busy main road where many of their family had been obliterated on a daily basis. My home being a considerable distance from a road was considered a perfect environment for young ferral cats to grow up in. I set up a couple of timber houses lined with straw and a feeding platform that I could view from the house to monitor their progress.

A female was first to arrive and quite the wildest creature I've ever encountered at close quarters. She had to remain in a cage until acclimatised to her new surroundings but I confess I literally threw her food into it every day for fear of losing a hand. Once she was accustomed to her new home - a dense woodland area and no road in sight - she was released. I didn't see her for days but eventually she returned and fed at the platform. That was a good day.

Another female and a male arrived and into the cage they went. I was again rewarded with growls and hisses every time I approached.

In order of arrival I named the three Uno, Duay and Tres, not that they cared.

When Duay and Tres were released and as time passed, I noticed that the two females seemed to have teamed up and that Tres was left to his own devices. It was disappointing to see him coping on his own but he appeared sleek and healthy, if a little sad I thought.

Whenever I entered their territory to refill feeders they were nowhere to be seen. Then one day I saw Uno sitting at the base of an Oak Tree watching me. She didn't come closer but didn't run away. That was a good day.

Then Duay became even bolder than Uno. She'd hear my voice - or the sound of the food being poured into the feeder, and come and sit nearby. Then she was bold enough to visit the feeder the moment I walked away; I could stand quite close-by while she ate. Inevitably, because of this she became my favourite. I felt we'd bonded.

One day I found Duay on the main road, no more of this life. That was a bad day.

After that and for ages I only saw Tres, the male, at the feeder. If I went anywhere near his area he disappeared instantly. One very cold day I went out to fill the feeder and as I walked back past the kennel there was Tres snuggled down in the straw and he didn't run away, just stared out at me with his gorgeous green eyes. That was a good day.

I fretted that there had been no sign of Uno for a long time. Day after day I checked regularly but never saw her visit the feeder. No cat was found on the road but eventually I resigned myself to the fact that she must have gone the same way as her sister.

Two years on and I'd become accustomed to my male cat appearing at the feeder and sometimes continuing to stay in his cosy straw bed when I approached, looking perfectly calm and trusting.

Having lost Duay and Uno, I made a decision not to rescue more stable cats. Perhaps the environment I provided was not so safe after all, I thought and the road might be a long way off but Duay found it and felt compelled to cross it. Although Uno's disappearance remained a mystery I had to assume that she had done the same.

It was two years and one week yesterday since the cats came to live here. I went into the wood to fill the feeder and couldn't resist the temptation to look into the cat house in case Tres was inside. Just adore those green eyes!

Tres wasn't there but another cat stared out at me.

Uno is alive and well. Yesterday was a very good day.

Never give up hope. Never underestimate the future. It can surprise and delight.

ro in England.