Minnie’s life, like mine, has evolved. She was a feral kitten when she came to me at the first Bedlam Farm, she lived in the barn near the chicken roost, she loved to be with the chickens, I think she thought she was one. I rarely saw her, she rarely showed herself in the daylight and I often looked out the window and saw her perched in the barn windows or sitting atop a fencepost so she could see far for mice and rats and moles.

She spent some time with Mother, our ferociously independent barn cat who left our new home almost immediately and has not been seen since Minnie chose to stay but lost her leg in a nightime attack of some sort.  She had a long and difficult recovery and  seems very uncomfortable outside in the cold, so most nights she is curled up with Maria on the sofa, she loves to be with her and when Maria is reading, which is most nights, you can find Minnie very close, often curled up in Maria’s arm. Minnie is a character, a verbal creature who seems to have some comment on everything.

She is fearless inside of the house, rubbing herself against the dogs – even Frieda – and hopping around on her three feet. On cold days, she likes to go in the basement where it is dark and the occasional mouse wanders by. On warm days, she goes outside, hides in the hay bales and takes in some sun. She (Flo) are a part of our lives now, our home, a mixed story for a barn cat but a happy ending I think.