WINTER FEEDING
I headed toward the barn as the thin morning light poised momentarily on the barn, the riding arena, the sandbox with its well worn toys, and the pasture beyond as if anticipating the new kind of flurries soon to arrive. It felt like more sunlight would soon come. Molli, Graci and Ruthy, our paying tenants nickered, knowing breakfast was soon to be served. Fort Collins got a 3 or 4 inch snowfall overnight. The snow that had landed on their backs from the day before had melted and dried. Good, they had stayed inside their stalls for most of the night. I knew they were fine but as with my kids, worry for their well being had become a habit.
The farm kittens, Taffy, all orange furry ball-of-yarn and Cookie, the pixie faced ferret look-alike followed me to the barn. They were previously barn kittens until I had surreptiously brought them in at night so often that as soon as I began to bring the horses in from the pasture in the evening they hung around and followed me back to the house, insisting on a warm bed and a couple of dogs to tease.
Snow was still an unfamiliar experience for them and they held their tails high as they pranced through the snow leaving small kitten footprints on the path to the barn.
Three of our grandkids, 3 year old twin boys and their 1 1/2 year old sister would be arriving soon for their Saturday morning pancakes, a specialty served up by their ‘Bumpa’. I could smell the bacon enticing me to finish barn chores so I could join them.
The farm kittens, Taffy, all orange furry ball-of-yarn and Cookie, the pixie faced ferret look-alike followed me to the barn. They were previously barn kittens until I had surreptiously brought them in at night so often that as soon as I began to bring the horses in from the pasture in the evening they hung around and followed me back to the house, insisting on a warm bed and a couple of dogs to tease.
Snow was still an unfamiliar experience for them and they held their tails high as they pranced through the snow leaving small kitten footprints on the path to the barn.
Three of our grandkids, 3 year old twin boys and their 1 1/2 year old sister would be arriving soon for their Saturday morning pancakes, a specialty served up by their ‘Bumpa’. I could smell the bacon enticing me to finish barn chores so I could join them.
Great visual! Why didn't you mention poor Bailey! :-)
ReplyDeleteNice job, Pam. Takes me back to the farm where I grew up and the wild barn kittens my brother and I always tried to "tame."
ReplyDeleteIt's the dreaded Monday morning. Do you have another blog for us?
ReplyDelete