Percy and Theo wrestling.

I’m reading a wonderful book about a country vet in England in the early 1900s. The book has such descriptive details of the land and animals written in the first person. It relaxes my mind and calms the storms around me. 

It all right to read something lighthearted and dreamy, you know. We get our bowels in such an uproar nowadays. It’s nice to shut out the noise and de-stress.

The writer’s detail of God’s creatures makes one think about how we are so fast-paced nowadays that we forget to look around at the beauty. We blink, and we miss God’s masterful artwork, such as animals. 

Maybe you’re not so much interested in the four-legged or two-legged creatures or the ones that fly or swim, but they are worth another look.

Take, for example, Percy the farm cat here. Goodness, he must be 15 years old by now. We got him and his brother when we first moved to the farm site in Mankato, Minnesota.

He and his brother, Victor, were on the larger size of kitten proportions and made their home in the old drafty bank barn.

Percy was the more mellow of the two and wanted affection. Not so much, Victor. Victor wasn’t a truster, but he was a roamer. A fighter, too. Well, with interlopers, that is. But this, along with the roamer-independent-streak, made Victor’s life span short, seeing the barn is right next to the highway.

Due to being the lone cat now, Percy became the other “dog” on the farm along with Ella. Yes, dog.

Percy will follow you on walks and hang out in the garden with you. He will wait outside the door to try to block your footsteps hoping for a pat. 

Tom and I aren’t really “cat people.” We are more dog people. Cats have a function and a duty. Ha.

Percy is the best rabbit slayer to be found on this side of the Mississippi.  

Early mornings you will see him crouched down under an asparagus fern or broccoli leaf, waiting for a dumb bunny to try to sample fresh garden leaves. Or it might be a thieving bird swooping in for the new red spot on a strawberry.

I don’t mind the bunny breakfasts, but birds are a “no-no.”

You know when Percy has spotted something. His body becomes tense and then his tan-stripped tail will start to swish back and forth. Without much other warning, Percy is out of the gate with a loss or a win. Sometimes Percy will leave a head, some feet, and a tail for you just outside the door for you to walk on (or nearly walk on). It’s his way of saying with glee, “GOOD MORNING! Love Percy.”

I think Percy got into one too many fights long ago, and some old injuries keep him from roaming, which we are thankful for. We got another cat we named Theo a year ago last fall for him, but like Victor, Theo didn’t look before he crossed the road.

Percy was so mournful when Theo didn’t return home for that wrestling match with his mentor or the lightning attack that Percy was SO ready for. Percy cried and howled for about three days straight, begging Theo to return. Then Percy went silent. 

We had to give extra pats and a little extra food, even in our own sorrow.

Now was our time to give back. Now was our time to comfort, even when we didn’t feel like it.

There’s no Valley of Blessing here. No victory. No answer for “How come?” But just suck it up and care for another who is hurting.

It took a while, but Percy has gotten back to his greeting and almost tripping mode. He’s back to the hunting and being the lone star sheriff of the farm.

So, we have a total herd of one cat now. Long gone are the sheep, cows, chickens, and a dog. Life is not the same but changed by life and death. Life must go on.

Percy will have to be content with his heating pad in the garage and deluxe cat food. Spring is coming, Percy. You must be ready for the fresh dumb bunnies and robbers of the mistress’ berries.

Life isn’t always purrfect.

More by Susan…