prune picker

This is the blog of a prune picker. (Native born Californian) Retired oilfield. I am an old man. (91) I blog a lot about my body and getting old. As I approach death life gets more interesting. More interesting is not good. I still drive. I attend sports, music, and civic events. I am writing my memoirs. I attend swim class three times a week. Some of my blogs might be interesting. A lot of my blogs are silly and trivial. None are very long.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Patches's kittens move to the farm.

We have been trying to find homes for two kittens. No luck. They grew and grew. They are several months old. They are almost not kittens anymore. They have been in my life all that time and I have grown fond of them. There has been a couple of times that I have had three cats on my lap. Mother Patches and her two kittens.

We were a group. The kittens loved the inside of my trailer. They would dash in when I openned the door. It was like the trailer was a large cat toy. They ran and played and then would take a nap.

The blonde would climb up on my belly shelf (chest) and purr into my nose. 

I made a last appeal (facebook) for a new home for the kittens. We had to make room for a new litter that Patches is about to have. My good friend Skip Russell offered his farm for a home. (He already has a fine stable of farm cats.) He offered as a favor. Thanks, Skip. Here are pictures of the kittens in their new home on Skip's farm. They are to be in a cage for a few days to get familiar with their new home. I have been going over to visit with them and to feed them.

The kittens were frantic and scared out of their wits when we took them out of the large yard that they had been used to playing in and put them in a carrier. Then they were put in a cage in a barn. They were surrounded by little horses and large older cats. But they really settled down after a day or two. This is their third night in the gulag. (No offense meant to the farm but the cage would seem like the gulag to them.)


  1. Replies
    1. Thank you, Nancy. The act tore me up. I was fond of them. Patches is going to make me go through it again.


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