Barn cats are mystical creatures to me, I love them for the unnfathomableness, their independence, their savvy and ferocity. Our cats, Flo and Minnie, are at least partly domesticated. We give them shots, feed them some solid food every day, worm them regularly, get them all of their shots, and let them into the house or basement on bitter cold nights.

They don’t hang out much together, they have separate lives.

Flo is the first cat to get to me, she seduced me into letting her in the farmhouse one bitter night, before that she lived in the woodshed, we don’t know where she came from.

Minnie was born a feral kitten and lived with the chickens in the first Bedlam Farm barn, she still hangs out with the chickens when she can, even though she is now a three-legged cat. She never came into a house until her amputation.

Usually, Flo and Minnie have little or nothing to do with one another. Flo sleeps on the porch or high up in the old barn, Minnie sleeps in a box by the back porch. Flo terrorizes the dogs, hissing and swiping at them if they get too close. Even Frieda  ran from her.

Flo lived secretly on the farm for a year or two, we knew she was there, but never saw her. In a storm, she revealed herself to Maria – a smart move, but still lived in the woodshed until she seduced me.

Minnie loves all things, human and animal. She sleeps on the hay in the big barn. We almost never  see them together.

I am not ever going to be certain we did the right thing in amputating Minnie’s leg after she was attacked by an unidentified predator one night out behind the farmhouse. I do not believe humans have the right to inflict such suffering on helpless animals just so they can feel better themselves.

It seems selfish and arrogant to me.

Today, for no reason I can know or imagine, these two cuddled up right next to one another like sisters. They touched heads and soaked up the sun together. It had been a chilly night, but there have been many chilly nights and they are never near each other.

Unlike dogs, they don’t slobber or pander or live to please people.

Barn cats are like that. They are unknowable. They do not live to please humans.  They find remote and safe corners and crevices to sleep in.

They sense approaching storms and vanish. They are ferocious and unforgiving hunters.

They are tough and free and love their independence. They get to live the natural lives of cats, and yes, that includes the slaughter of many helpless smaller things.