As I write this, Zip is dozing in his heated cat house, installed in the barn by Maria this afternoon.
In the final analysis, I think it was my anxiety that brought this about, not a genuine need. But it feels good. It was interesting to see how much of an impact this cat has made on me.
I looked out the back door window this morning when I got up, and Zip looked at me in a way I thought was pleading. It was below zero, about the only time I worry about him being in the cold. He was fine, moving about, hunting, eating, and sleeping on the back porch table.
I’ve had barn cats for nearly 20 years, and none came inside the house except when they got ancient.
Then, we put them in the basement in a heated cat house. Maria saw I was worried and went outside and put our heated cat house in the barn. Zip jumped in and out of it, and then, an hour or so later, we saw that he was sitting inside it.
Maria and I switched roles a bit in this decision. She was okay with the heated house but didn’t honestly feel it was necessary. She pointed out that barn cats know how to stay warm, even in sub-zero temperatures. I was the creature getting uneasy.
I feel good about it. Maria didn’t object and didn’t want me to be anxious.
I have to be honest; I agree with her. It was something I needed, not necessarily something he needed.
The obvious alternative would have been bringing him inside the house, and I don’t want that now any more than I did before. Neither does Maria. I know many cat people don’t understand what a barn cat is, but Zip is the perfect barn cat, doing his work faithfully and steadily.
I have no reservations at all about Zip staying outside.
He would be a restless nightmare inside our small farmhouse with three dogs confined in a small living room. I love the peace of that room, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything I could think of.
The rats and mice who were invading us are gone, and so are the pigeons who were crapping up our hay loft with waste. Zip did that in just a few weeks.
But I have a special relationship with Zip, and I felt he was trying to tell me something this morning; he rarely waits at the back door for me like that (above.) Something in his look got to me; I didn’t think he was in trouble; I just felt the cold. Like Maria, I didn’t see it as a monumental issue.
Zip and I have grown close; we seem to understand what the other is thinking. It wasn’t that he needed to come inside. It was that he was cold. And it was freezing.
I decided to meditate over this and contemplate it. I take stewardship seriously.
I sat down and had a slice of my excellent and fresh new multi-seed bread with peanut butter.
I breathed deeply.
I was clear in just a few minutes; Maria asked me if I would feel more comfortable if Zip had a heated bed in the barn. I said yes, and Maria, who cares about what I think, agreed; she had no problem with it even though it wasn’t something she would have done. We must agree on things like this, or we don’t do them.
She respects the idea of the barn cat as much as I do. Animals like this are vanishing from the world as we accept the idea that working with people is somehow cruel.
We had a heated cat house sitting unused in the basement, and it seemed the perfect compromise for him and us, a good solution. A bitter cold is predicted for the next few days, and I am sure I am feeling it. I can barely go outside.
I’ve enjoyed my numerous interactions with the cat people. But there are, of course, the crazies, a vibrant and noxious cult among animal lovers, dogs, cats, donkeys, or sheep.
My only hesitation in writing about this or doing it was to send the wrong message to the zealots and know-it-alls who have been writing obnoxious and annoying messages to both of us, insisting that Zip should come into the house in such a cold winter and that we are uncaring and cruel.
We are used to the animal people – a minority; I think – who combine this kind of rigid certainty and arrogance with situations involving animals like cats and dogs. There is only one right way for them; there are always choices for me. And they live to butt into the lives of people and tell them what to do.
I’ve been arguing with them for years, never to any avail. Nor have they ever persuaded me to do anything. Nor have I regretted doing anything they disapproved of. They believe what they believe and are not interested in thought, knowledge, or discussion. Ignoring them is the best choice.
( I decided about Zip in the cold while chewing my excellent fresh seed bread.)
I’m glad Zip has the heated house, especially on this night. The first time the weather warms up, we will turn it off.
To be clear, he does not belong in the house at night and won’t come inside until he becomes old and frail. Then he goes into the basement in January as Flow and Minnie did, and the heated cat house will accompany him. I’ll probably be gone by then. He’ll be in good hands.
To me, stewardship is not about being rigid and absolute, nor is it about projecting my neuroses and concerns onto an animal that is otherwise free of my neurotic shit. I always try to separate what I need from what the animal needs. It isn’t easy.
I try to make my own decisions thoughtfully and with compassion. We listen to our animals but don’t cross the line of treating them like helpless children and giving them everything people guess they might want.
If Zip were to come to live in the house at night, I don’t believe he would ever go outside again as a barn cat, one of the most fascinating and independent creatures I’ve known. He would instead have become just an indoor and outdoor pet cat.
A vast difference exists between an indoor cat, a house cat, and a true barn cat.
Zip is a cat of great spirit and determination. He is a wonderful and ferocious hunter, the perfect choice to keep our barn and farm healthy and safe for the animals. Farm people know what rats, mice, and pigeons can do to a barn, the hay stored inside, and the many rodents drawn to animal waste. A barn can get unhealthy fast.
I have respect for the remarkable barn cats we have known. I believe that they are entitled to the life of freedom and instinct that make them so strong and valuable.
It is pretty clear that Zip was telling me he was cold, but he did not suggest or indicate he wanted to come inside. He wanted to be a little warmer out in the barn. That was, to me, the message.
As usual, the animal rights people who scream the loudest seem reliably to know nothing about the working animals they claim to be fighting for and are driving from human contact or their very existence.
I am in touch with many cat lovers now, and I believe that a true cat lover respects the nature and severe work of the barn and working cat. If Zip came to live in the house, I think that spirit would decline and vanish. He’d have no reason to hunt and patrol. Most of the barn cat lovers know that. Most of the animal rights people don’t.
I feel good that Zip has a heated place in this weather. I agree with Maria that it is an okay thing to do but far from an issue of life and death. Let’s face it: Zip has made me a little squishy. My Willa Cather wife is more demanding. We’ve switched roles once again, and not for the first time.
Zip is a remarkable animal, and I love him quite a bit. He deserves to be treated for what he is, not as yet another emotional relief tool for extremist animal owners. His life is freedom and hunting, not being a furbaby.
I feel good tonight. I’m glad he has a warm place to sleep. I’m so happy we found a middle ground to make us – and hopefully him – feel easy and comfortable.
The self-righteous “defenders” of animal rights do the animals of the world no good with their unthinking and inflexible ideology. That’s my idea of stewardship. At this rate, there will be no barn cats, just robots with poison spray.
Animal’s lives, like the lives of people, are complex, and decisions about them ought never to be in the hands of know-nothing ideologues.
One good thing about Zip is that he taught me that real cat lovers are among the most exciting and loving people—another gift.
