It’s heading well below zero tonight, and I always think of the barn cats on a night like this. Donkeys and sheep hole up in the pole barn –  the winds are cutting and sharp. They are happiest out in the elements unless it is raining or snowing. We have made some hay beds and boxes for the cats and they can handle the cold. Sometimes we think about putting a litter and some food in the basement, but we have tried that –  the barn cats never want to be confined, and they are sheltered from the wind and have warm places to sleep in. Flo sleeps high up in the woodshed. It is dry up there, and sheltered from any wind. She and I have bonded, when I come to the shed for firewood or to visit, she comes right down and she loves to sit in my lap. I am fond of her, I admire the way she has established herself, smacked each of the dogs around a bit and spats with Minnie for position in the barn.

Barn cats face a lot of dangers, but they have a little help – trips to the vet, water and food at least once a day and Maria and I make sure they have good places to curl up. We project all kinds of things onto them, but my belief is that this is the way they l way the choose to live, and this is their existence and contentment. Barn cats seem to have mastered the art of living in two worlds, theirs but always brushing against ours.