Life (a true story)
As I have found myself snowed in, I am transcribing another story from my formative years. Often I have talked to my friends about the farm and its fatal qualities. This is an example.
Life (a true story)
I’m going to tell you a sad story about life. Not our life, but the short life of many cats. You see, animals should live a long time and not die. Well, my five kitten did not have that joy.
It started off with our cat Tig having four kittens and another cat, I don’t know which one, having three. When I went up to the barn to feed the older ones I heard some small meowing in the hay. I walked up to it and poked my flashlight in a small hole and there were three kittens snuggled inside. I stuck them in the crate with Tig’s kittens, so that there were three all together.
They all lived peacefully until about a week ago. Two disappeared. I looked all over the barn, but they weren’t there so I figured they would just come back tomorrow.
The next night I went up in the barn again, to feed the older cats and I looked in the crate to find that two more kittens were missing. I started to think, ‘What could have happened to them?’ They could have been eaten by our tom, Goldie or they could have fallen out of the top of the barn and our dog, Nikki, could have ate them. Whatever happend to them it probably had to do with eating because there were no bodies to be found anywhere.
By now it was Friday, May 21 and four kittens were missing. On this day my two brothers and I were headed to our grandma and grandpa’s house. Before we went I had to feed the cats. I went up in the barn and looked in the crate. There were three kittens there, but one looked dead. I brought the crate into the light. My first conclusion was that the kitten was dead, but then, it took a jolting breath. It was alive, but just barely. I took it and started to help it. About two times it meowed, telling me to keep trying. Then my grandma came to pick me up, so I gave up and set the fragile kitten back in the crate with the other two, praying that it would stay alive.
On Saturday my grandma drove me to our house to feed the cats, the dog, and the rabbit. I went up to the barn and looked in the crate. The kitten that was almost dying was dead. I didn’t want to bury it that day so I put on some gloves and stuck it in an old coffee can. I went back to my grandma’s house, hoping no more died, I only had two left.
The next day we came back from my grandma’s house. I went up to the barn to look into the crate. The black and white one was still there and so was the gold one. I looked in the coffee can. The dead kitten was lying on its side and nothing else was in it or around it. I then came to the conclusion that Goldie was eating our kittens.
The next day passed with no cat dissapearings. My brother and I moved the crate and surrounded it by hay and covered it with wood. Now no other kittens are missing and I hope it stays that way.
Howard City, Michigan
1992
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