Flo lived in the woodshed when we first moved to the farm, we didn’t ever see her the first two years she was here, we were aware of her, the dogs would focus on the shed sometimes and bark, and we saw her tracks in the snow. One day, during an awful storm, she stood in front of Maria’s studio window and showed herself and Maria went into the house and brought her some food.

She had to leave it in the woodshed and Flo would sneak out later and eat it. Over time, she began to seduced me, appearing from the rafters when I came out for wood, flirting with me, purring at me, getting closer and closer. It took her a year, but she got into the house.

Some people told us Flo was an old barn cat that had lived on the farm for years, but the vet said she was a young cat, about three years old, and someone had spayed her. I think she was clearly someone’s cat, she is so friendly and at ease in the house. We have worked out an arrangement with Flo, In the winter, she lives inside, in the summer and on warm days, she lives in the woodshed and the barns and hunts, and lives the life of the barn cat.

I admire her for the way she has structured her life, she lives the life she wants to live, we have come to love her and appreciate her. She has terrorized every dog we have had here, including the ferocious Frieda and the irrepressible Fat. She wants no joy from Fate, she hisses and snarls whenever she comes near, and she rarely comes near. This morning, it was cold. Flo will soon be appearing by the back door in the late afternoons. We are ready for her, today, she came out of her old lair in the woodshed to soak up some sun.