I have always paid more attention to dogs than cats, and watching Flo move from the periphery to the mainstream of farm life has been an education. For months, she was a shadow running across the pasture or down the road. She never showed herself to us. I never realized she was sleeping up in the woodshed, just a few feet from where I went to get firewood. During one heavy snowstorm, she showed herself to Maria by looking through the Studio window. She chose wisely.
Maria fed her, and they began to communicate. Weeks later, she showed herself to me. We took her to the vet and brought Red. She jumped off the vet's table and smacked Red across the nose. The next day Lenore ran over her to say hello and she got whacked as well. Still, we rarely saw Flo. Now, she lounges all day by the back door, follows us outside as we do our chores, sashays up to me and demands to be picked up. Yesterday Maria and I sat on the back porch in the sun to meditate there for a few minutes, and Flo hopped up into Maria's lap and sat quietly for 15 minutes.
Like people, animals evolve, and this cat has steadily evolved into the center of life here. She pays no attention to the dogs – she keeps an eye on Frieda. We are happy with our cat's lives, and we have no plans to bring them inside. Flo pushed Minnie around for awhile, but more and more, we see the two of them together.