Murderous March

Spring is here! The bulbs are blooming and I can smell something sweet in the air, but along with all the beauty on the farm, trouble comes for some.

I have concrete evidence of this recent disturbance and usually it doesn't occur until May. In the past, I have tried to prevent the loss of life. Mostly I am too late and once again, poor little innocent beings have found themselves a victim of the resident serial murderer....Cricket!

A gorgeous young green snake was beheaded last week. Its body was slung around in the washrack, the feline dungeon of doom. I have never seen a green snake before and sadly had to hide its hardened form in case of ingestion. With Cricket, you cannot tell what he will eat. I managed to steal a poor tufted titmouse, still warm, during the 'throw the dead in the air' game just a few days ago. I hid it since Cricket gets sick from eating birds. He looked a long while for that bird.

I finished those awful taxes yesterday and had two social engagements to attend that evening, so everything was rushed. Callie decided to follow me when I went out to the cemetery paddock which I try to discourage in case she might want to wander off and then get eaten herself. She likes to linger near the huge sycamore tree at the gate. All the deer were feeding and sometimes the yearlings don't know what to think of the cats. They raise their 'flags' and begin a slow approach accompanied with the unusual warning stomp. If they get too close then I'm the one that does the stomping which immediately startles them. I was too busy to watch with both horses walking briskly towards the barn. I did glance back to see her crouched in the middle of the lane. I put the horses up and called and called but no Callie which is unusual; she is the best cat and like a dog, will come running. Of course worry set in, what if she got stomped? So back up the lane I go, loudly calling for Callie. Nothing. Daddy Cat followed, trying to help with his incessant meows. Cricket was in the tack room for the evening. I finally spotted her in the tree by the pond perched comfortably with one arm dangling. She wasn't moving. I threw old sticks at her and she refused to budge. (When I picked up a stick close to the water, I noticed something with no head....after more study, it was a poor frog. Cricket!) After a good 15 minutes, I told her she was on her own and Daddy Cat and I walked back to the barn. Down she came. I picked her up and lugged her to the barn and put her in the tack room. Bad kitty.

Oh how could I forget, a little possum lost it life at the base of the bird feeder in the beginning of the month. Little Bear! She is notorious for killing teenage creatures. The baby bunnies will be born soon and I dread that the most. I usually name May the murder month, but it looks as though this disgusting behavior from my well fed cats and dogs is going to begin early this year.