Spot

     After my first divorce I was blessed with an old, neutered tomcat.  I named him Spot because that is what he was, one big black spot. He was a pretty good cat as far as cats go.              

      For some ungodly reason, I must have got a worm in my brain, I remarried about 5 years later.  This gal had a 10 acre horse farm and she acquired a new hand.  Me! Ol’ Spot came to the farm with me.  Great place for a cat as those old barns have lots of rats.  We also had three female barn cats which was not a great deal for Spot we cut his plummin’, long ago. He left them alone and they just gave him dirty looks as the female of the species do to us males.

The barn cats seemed to always have litters.  It kept us a jumping as they would steal each other’s litters.  Which ever had the first would steal the litter of the second.  This would always tick me off and I would separate them.  Then they would do it again and hide them. 

Finally I said the heck with it.  I just left them together and grabbed the other mama and stuck her with the bunch to see what would happen.  Heck, they liked it fine.  The mama cats would just lie together and the babies would just grab whatever titty would become available.  After that I would keep them bunched when I would find them.  We never had problems getting rid of them as they were easy to give away.  Those that lived long enough that is.  When those little guys got big enough to get out of the nest I started to call them stompers.  Wife didn’t like that but that is what they were.  They would get around a horses foot while they were in a standing stall and that was it.  Horse couldn’t see them and guess they would think they were a fly or something and “Stomp”  Squished them little fellers plumb flat!  Heck my wife squished one in the grain room once!  She liked to have peed herself she was so upset on that one.  I even got one of the silly little things with the tractor!!  Now that was a big tractor with chloride in the tires and that sucker was FLAT!!

I digress from the dang story I had intended to write.  Man I get to a ramblin on.   Now old Spot was about 12 years old and had not had nuts so long that I was worried about him turning sissy on me.  He was a beat up ole thing that would just radiate mean.  Minded his own business and expected others to do the same.

Two of the mama cats were with litter and I had them hidden over behind a bunch of hay.  They were easy to keep track of there and were out of the way.  I was in the grain room on this particular day just doing chores when I heard a heck of a squalling.  Not like a hurt squalling but like a calling squalling.  I knew it was a cat had not heard them do that before.  I looked out the door and there was the old Tom cat, setting in the runway, just a squalling his head off.  Funny thing was, between his front feet was a dead starling.  For you Texans, that is a bird. Now I could not figger this out!!  I just watched, as he was a squalling.

By Golly, out of that hay pile came one of the mama cats and trotted right up to ol’ Spot and picked up that bird.  It then trotted back into the hay and disappeared.  I couldn’t believe what I had just seen.  Now I knew that ol Spot wasn’t a getting any of those mamas and he sure wasn’t the father of any of those kittens.  He just DIDit. 

I told my wife about it and of course she said I was nuts.  I could tell you story’s about that fruitcake!! I just told her where to go and forgot about it.  Next day or so we were both out there , in the grain room again, and the squalling started again.  I told her highness to take a look and by golly there ol Spot was again.  Same place with another bird.  That is a starling for you Texans.  Purty as you please a mama came out and picked it up, returning to the nest.  Ol Spot looked sorta smug as he trotted off.

That was the only two times I ever saw that happen.  Man, I just thought of another couple stories about cats!! Life has been a learning experience  :0)