Claire Bear

Brushy was a very spooky feral cat who, years ago, would sneak up on the back porch late at night to eat cat food we'd set out for Eli.  I spent weeks trying to tame him down.  He was so hungry that he'd let me stand next to him while he ate, growling, but would never let me touch him.  

One night, instead of trying to touch his hip, I reached up and touched his head.  He immediately bumped his head up into my hand, as cats do, and from that second on was completely tame.  I took him to the vet for a check and 'tutering and when I brought him home the next day I didn't hesitate to turn him loose.  I knew he'd not run off.  

But he did...sort of.  He disappeared and then reappeared a couple days later with a small black kitten in tow.  Claire Bear was always Brushy's cat and she may have actually been one of his kittens as they had a similar body shape.  Where he was very friendly though, she preferred to be left alone and spent most of her life tucked away in the barn and most never saw her.

Oh, she'd come out and talk to us some, but if we tried to pet her or pick her up, she darted or squirmed away.  God forbid if you had to take her to the vet.  Yearly vaccinations became a farm call rather than an office visit.  She was an odd cat, but we didn't care.  She was Brushy's cat and that was enough.

And yet...as socially awkward as she was, if we left town for a couple days, she was always the very first cat to meet us at the gate when we got home.  We always had a farm sitter, so we knew it wasn't because the food bowl was empty.  She actually seemed excited and happy we were home and we knew, in her own way, Claire Bear loved us.

A couple weeks ago she started asking to come into the house.  She'd walk around the kitchen, eat some of Betsy's food and then curl up on one of the dog beds and go to sleep.  She'd lost a little weight and looked like her teeth might be causing her some trouble so I got up my nerve and took her to the vet.  

Yes, her teeth were bad, but her bigger issue was her kidneys.  She stayed in the ICU at the clinic for several days and we hoped when they sent her home that she was rehydrated and stabilized enough that she might have some good months left, but it was not to be.

Interestingly, for those last few days, Claire Bear loved to be petted, followed us around the house, slept on the bed one night, was really happy if I'd sit on the floor with her and once even crawled into my lap.  

Was she making up for lost time, both giving and receiving?  Was she just looking for some comfort because she didn't feel well?  I'm not sure.  What I do believe, as she sat watching at that gate one last time, that Claire Bear knew she was loved and knew we knew she loved us as well and I think that was important to her.

Claire Bear 

2005 - March 14, 2019

Brushy

The naming of cats is a difficult matter... T.S. Eliot

I believe Brushy only had one name though. Brushy.

Brushy showed up as a skinny stray shortly after we moved to Equinox Farm and it took awhile to tame him down. He would sneak up on the porch at night to eat and was hungry enough that he'd let me sit out there as he did, but would growl (as he continued to eat) if I tried to touch him. One night however I decided to try to touch the top of his head instead of his back and as I did, he immediately bumped up into my hand and was completely tame from that very second on.

He went to the vet, passed all his tests and got his shots and 'tutored' and immediately settled in. Three mornings later he brought Claire Bear home. Claire Bear was a tiny kitten and I don't know if she was a relative or not, but regardless, Claire Bear was obviously Brushy's cat. They were inseparable and she got to stay as well.

Claire Bear was somehow named right away. Brushy went for weeks as "kitty". We tried all sorts of names, but nothing stuck. One day I asked him directly, "Hey kitty, what is your name?"

"Brushy."

Clear as day in my head. I told Saint Tim and while he didn't think it so strange that the cat shared his name with me, he agreed it was not a suitable "family use" name. We continued to try other monikers. A few weeks later I again said "Kitty, we really need a name for you."

"Brushy."

Brushy it was.

Brushy would walk anywhere with me. He especially loved to go out to the Frog Pond. That was a trip worthy of all the cats and we enjoyed relaxing out there together on summer evenings listening to the farm put itself to bed. Brushy would sit next to me, Eli would sit off by himself and Claire Bear would entertain us all with her mad hunting skills.

Brushy was also the protector of the family. Shortly after Boo came to live with us, he learned this the hard way. Boo was a cat chaser early on and got in a lot of trouble for it. One day I caught him chasing Eli onto the porch. I ran after him, yelling and hitting him with a dish towel. At my side was Brushy, running on his hind legs hissing and slapping Boo as he made a hasty retreat.

More than anything, Brushy wanted to be a house cat. With the darling Wiwi in the house, this was not just not possible. For the last few weeks though, as Brushy's been ill, we moved him inside, out of the cold. Wiwi did get "paddled" a few times for bad behavior, but Brushy ignored her and enjoyed sitting on the couch in front of the fire. Two nights ago he sat out in the wool house with me and we read a sheep book. He was not much interested though and I knew the end was near.

Brushy was an exceptional cat.

Milk Mouth

Well, it's been a long week. 2010 is starting to look like groundhog "year". Brushy is sick and I'm losing hope.



I'm glad I have funny sheep to make me laugh. Only Keebler and Graham had the gumption to go out and dig into the snow looking for grass. Doesn't Keebs look like he has a milk mouth?

Snow Angels

Southern Kentucky actually had a decent snowfall over night, but any snow around here is a big snow and big fun.



Unless you are loyal Brushy, following me around with my camera at first light.



Eli obviously made a trip to "the office".



Do you see the faces in the bark? Owls or raccoons?



These were the only sheep out and about.



And Hank, of course.

The Kitties Were Nestled All Snug In Their Beds

Or "Why There Are Mice Trying To Move Into Our House" or "Et Tu Claire Bear?!?" or "Just Shoot Me. Please."

It's not even cold yet. Windy, yes. Cold, no. I still have the kitchen door open. Yeesh.



Yin Yang



I think the food bowl located right outside the cubby door is an especially nice touch. Don't trip on that heater cord when you get up for dinner tonight, Brushy.



Claire Bear. Sigh. I guess everyone deserves a day off. At least she's earned it...



"Yeah, whatever."



It's apparently important to cook each side equally.

Jungle Cat

There's nothing like a cat to make you feel like it's a good thing you didn't make your bed this morning or left the butter out on the counter...or never cleaned up the greenhouse all summer (or pulled out the grapevine).

In my defense, I decided I wanted to use that vine to make a wreath this fall...

...or winter ;-).

What's Cookin' At The Wool House?

Not much. I wish Saint Tim would get home from his fishing trip. I'm getting tired of eating cereal ;-).

Actually, there is something cooking up there. I'm trying Judith MacKenzie McCuin's wool washing method I read about in the Fall 2008 Spin Off. If I can get my fleeces cleaner, with less water usage and few chemicals, I'm all for it!

I skirted the first fleece, dirty Woolliam. That should be a mighty fine test!



I dumped it from the skirting table into a laundry basket.



Carried the basket around the corner and set it down into a tub of cold water to ferment for several days. Using the laundry basket was my brilliant (I hope) idea, so as to not have to reach down in there to get the wool out later.



Back to the skirting table for two more. I'm not sure what I like better right now, the table or the ceiling fans.



I have a perfect place to set these soon to be really nasty smelling tubs. We'll keep the Woolliam picture handy to compare before and after.



Okay, let's return to the laundry basket shot. Did anyone catch Camouflage Comby up against the back wall?



Brushy is, of course, not far away. He was so zonked that I had to actually wake him up when it started raining.

Somebody just shoot me.

Spooky

I tip-toed out in the fog early this morning to try to catch some cool sheep pictures and what I ended up with that I liked the best was Brushy in the asparagus bed.



I experimented with lightening/brightening it up, but I decided I like the original best - how his face pops out of the gloomy, blurred background.

There's nothing gloomy about Brushy though in the real world, so this must be his alter-ego.

The Porch

"All the benefits of the barn without them actually having to make the effort to walk up there." ~ Saint Tim.

"Whatever." ~ Claire Bear

Even taking these through the screen door doesn't soften that look.

The hay is back on the porch because Graham Lamb had some milk go down his "Sunday Throat" Saturday evening, so I wanted to be able to keep a closer eye on him that night. He's fine.

That was probably their plan all along ;-).

Give Me A Break

It's 60 bajillion degrees here with about 500% humidity. No lie.



I've watched a progression throughout the day from Comby's feet sticking up in the air to falling off the chair, getting back up and going right back to sleep.

I've been trudging back and forth from the barn in sun so bright I can't even open my eyes all the way.

And I'm sweating. I Hate. To. Sweat.

And I broke my good [cheap] sunglasses.



Eli's sleeping under the porch.

Give me 40 and raining any day.



This does seem a little cooler Brushy, what with the breeze being able to blow underneath you. Good thinking :-/.

Because at least then I don't have to look at all my hardworking compatriots.



Aw, ain't she cute. With her widdle head up on a dirt pillow.



Which is why she's called the Garden Weasel. Nice hole there Weaslie.

The only reason Iris and Claire Bear aren't pictured is they are smart enough to hide [it's too hot to go looking for them].

Scrunchy's laying low because he heard something about getting 'tutered tomorrow.

Ugh.

You Can Tell By The Overhang...

I came home yesterday and was greeted by a peach colored cat on the porch.



"Hey Brushy. How's it going? Did I miss anything?"

Wait a minute.

That ain't Brushy.



Scrunchy!

He'd been gone for a day or so and I was afraid (okay, sort of hopeful) that the other cats (Comby!) had chased him away.

Any cats that come around here and will let us get ahold them get Feline Leukemia and AIDS tested (we've been lucky and not had any positives), given their shots and 'tutered. At least that way they've got a better shot of not getting sick and giving anything to our existing cats and at very least aren't adding to the cat population if they move on. HAHAHA - no one ever moves on.

So then we feed them for the rest of their lives, add some flea and tick treatment throughout the summers, update their shots every year, treat their boo boo's (note the lump on Scrunchy's back - thanks a lot Comby!), buy them stupid heated cat beds and build them outrageous condos so that everyone has a warm place to sleep in the winter.



The fruits of our labors? Yeah, that would be Brushy.

Why Can't We Be Friends?

Fun on the farm this morning...



Brushy!



Seriously Comby, you think you can take down a chicken?



Dude, can't you see I'm trying to sleep here?



Can't you do something about him?



Just for fun - I thought this was a cute picture left over from the weekend. Of course, not so great for vegetable matter (VM) dropping down into beautiful, clean, soft white wool, but hey, they're boys ;-).

Fabulous weather here. Hope everyone has the same.

Enjoy!

Cat-ch Up

I took this the other day during a rain storm and wanted to share. This might be my favorite picture of Eli. Thankfully the tacky plastic is still up. It makes a beautiful backdrop and blocks the wind and rain so we are all - cats, dogs, lambs and people - warm and dry and able to create beautiful pictures. We've needed it this spring.

We have some of the nicest cats. Every evening when I go sit out under one of the pine trees to watch the boys play, be their jungle gym and then their comfy bed, all four outdoor cats come with me. And Iris and Weaslie too, but you kind of expect your dogs to follow you.

So there we all sat last night - Brushy on a nearby fence post, Eli rolling around on the grass (he didn't know I was watching), Comby checking out the tree stump and Claire Bear just out of sight behind me. We did have a brief baby bird incident, but I hollered "Drop it!" and Eli did and I was able to rescue a too young robin and put it back in a safe-ish looking tree. We also got to see our Blue Heron fly home.

We consider him ours - he fishes in our back pond. He flies in every morning, stays all day and then flies home each night as darkness falls. In the city you might time your day by a factory whistle; out here it's the heron passing overhead. I would love to catch a picture of him flying over, but it's always too dark. I've tried to sneak out to the pond during the day, but he's too wary. I painted him to my best guess in the banner (that's what that is and why it's there ;-).



Brushy - the nightwatch

"Spend the [evening]. You can't take it with you." Annie Dillard.

If You Are Looking For A Cozy Place For A Nap...

...follow a cat.



More seedling shots from my greenhouse hideout.

Back to work - another busy day on the farm. Doubly so though as I try to catch up for not being as busy as I should have been yesterday!

Partridges In A Pear Tree

Or more like feeder pillaging grackles in an apple tree.



And after a very. traumatic. spell. of. no. power and hence no heated beds, the cats are finally much happier.



Claire Bear and Brushy



Eli



Comby



Wiwi, in front of the fire all day, never even knew the power was out.

And that's all that really matters, right?

Yeesh ;-)

Won't You Take Me To...Punk-ytown

Eli



Clair Bear



Brushy

Why aren't they sleeping in the new cat condo? With the heated beds?



Comby.

All the rooms are his.



Even Boo's if he chooses.

No other cats allowed. Even if it's raining, windy and cold.

Can you believe Saint Tim is actually going to build another cat condo this weekend?