Flo was a wild barn cat when we first encountered her seeking refuge and food in a blinding snowstorm. She was the first cat who evoked feelings in me that were similar to my dogs.

She just had a way of charming me. For a year or two, she slept in my lap when I sat in the living room or took a nap. When we got Bud, and now Zinnia, it became unwieldy to have two cats in our living room as well, and in cold weather, they came in but ended up in the basement.

Bud and Zinnia both love to sniff cats and follow them around – Fate too. It makes them nervous.

The basement always keeps warm, even in bitterly cold weather and Maria feeds the cats daily and shoos them outside when the sun comes out. Flo is back outside, probably until next winter.

I don’t get to be with her much these days, but whenever we are near each other, she comes over and starts seducing me again, in the way of cats. I’m starting to find more time to be with her minus the dogs, and Flo seems to want that.

Flo is a tough old barn cat, she spent a lot of time hiding in our woodshed and surviving cold weather, snow, and ice. Life is easier for her now, but she still has that independent and regal bearing that I love.

And in warm weather, Flo loves to go out into the fields and hunt. She rarely eats cat food in the summer, she’s usually full of moles or mice or baby rabbits.

This morning, I saw her sitting on the table in the back porch, and she made a beeline for me. She gave me that “hey big boy, pay attention to me” look.

I realized that I missed spending more time with her. I’m not a cat person by nature, but Flo busted through the wall.

I scratched behind her ears, which she loves, and held her for a while. I told her I was sorry that life had moved along and given us little time to be together.

This summer, I said, when I sit outside and read in the back yard, I’ll make sure I have some time to rub your belly and cuddle up with you.