I’ve always admired the resourcefulness and adaptability of cats. I have no idea where Flo came from or how she got here. She was not here when we moved in, we saw tracks and signs of a cat in the wood shed for a year or two before she showed herself to Maria.

When I could come into the woodshed to get wood for the stoves, Flo would come down out of the rafters from her invisible next way up in the rafters – she slept in a cardboard box up hight – she set out to charm me, and she did.

Now, she seems to be dealing on and off with what the vet thinks is kidney disease, but we have changed her diet and she is getting stronger and again and beginning to fill out. She seems happy and active.

This morning, I was shaving and I had this feeling something was behind me, you know one of those time when the spine tingles a bit, and I turned around it was Flo sitting on a bench outside of the bathroom window, peering in at me.

I wonder sometimes how often she looks in on me from the outside. She comes and goes, vanishes and appears, keeps an eye on me but also keeps her secrets. Barn cats don’t give it up, and unlike dogs, they are not really looking for  my approval.

Still charming me, flirting with me. When she was sick, I brought her inside and she sat on my lap and slept, we sat there for hours. There is nothing much like a cat’s eyes when they are looking right at you.

I love the mystical life of the barn cats, I want to write more about them. Unlike most pet dogs and cats, the barn cats learn to think and adapt, they get to explore and make a lot of their own decisions. They develop instinct and intuition and intelligence.

I have come to love Flo, the first cat that has  really broken through to me. I hope she continues to gain strength.