When I was about 13, my grandparents got me a kitten. I’m pretty sure it was possessed. That thing hated us. It climbed the curtain to sit in the window seal & hissed for hours. Lol. I let it outside a day or two later & never saw it again. That was the day I decided, I hated cats.
Fast forward 34 years……. I got a cat last week. He showed up on our farm (8 miles away a month ago.) My mother in law let him stay, & he moused around the shed & barn. He kinda grew on us anti-cat people, & we brought him home. My 6 year old named him, Fiddlesticks. He thinks he’s a King & is completely rotten already. When his food bowl is empty, he meows once, looks at the bowl, & back at me. I’m pretty sure he tells me off with his single “meow”.
Today, I got him a toy. It’s a little mouse that squeaks. He looked at it, looked at me, & went to his bed. He completely ignores it! When I go to the barn each night, he follows me now. (The hunting dogs we have are not impressed.) Tonight, he goes to the back corner of the barn, while I’m feeding the bottle calf. He sticks his nose through a hole then, takes off straight towards me chasing something! Yep, a mouse. A real one, not a cute toy! I screamed, almost dropped hubby (via phone), & my pj/boot clad self about climbed the barn stall. 🤣Goodness! Fiddlesticks (aka Your Highness), a little warning, please! Dark barns, mice, & a talented cat= heart failure.
P.S. I can’t believe I love this cat! 😍