April 9, 2008 – I am slow coming to the love cats, being a dog sort of person. But my barn cats Minnie and Mother (above) mesmerize me. They appear here, there, are always around but never around, love me devotedly, even as they abandon me constantly for murderous and independent pursuits. They are workmanlike, deadly, playful, affectionate, remote,  beyond training, yet they sense the rythyms of the place with extraordinary intuition. They are affectionate, mysterious, near but far, never my cats, always their own cats.
  Unlike dogs, they are aware of me, but have no great need of me, and they live secret, unknowable lives out of sight and consciousness, unlike a dog, who just wants to be around, and follow tradition. Everywhere I look, the barn cats are watching, on duty, on the prowl, mystical things far beyond notions of obedience and attachment that I am aware of. I love them in quite a different way than dogs, and respect them greatly. No rodent dares show his head in one of my barns.
  They are seductive, purring and cuddling one second, tricking me into feeding them, then in a second, will kill some beautiful thing and dismember it with astonishing cruelty and efficiency. How mystical they are, watching, waiting, loving in their own peculiar way.