Village Squire, 1980-09, Page 23SIX ACHERS
Yvonne Reynolds and her husband, a
retired Canadian Armed Forces officer,
settled in rural Huron County six years
ago. The antics of one dog [daughter of an
Immoral Sheltie], one house cat
[Himalayan aristocat], one barn cat [don't
ask] and a fluctuating number of chickens
and goats keep her supplled with more
than enough material for a regular monthly
column.
Being catty
We became Fritz -owners by accident
rather than design. Friends who were
moving from a farm house on the
Staffa road to an apartment in Stratford
insisted that we adopt their barn cat.
Fritz was, and is, nothing to look at. He
is a small black and puce -striped
neutered male with watery eyes, a
high-pitched asthmatic meow, and a
white tip on his scraggly tail. He has a
purr like a V-8 hitting on four cylinders.
Our friends assured us he would
never harm a baby rabbit or chick. but
was an implacable foe of all mice. We
assented reluctantly. Ron brought Fritz
over the night before the movers were
due. and we shoved him un-
ceremoniously into the barn. As we
were in the midst of an August heat
wave, we closed the barn door but left
the windows partially open so the goats
wouldn't suffocate.
The next morning Fritz was gone. We
shrugged philosophically. Easy come,
easy go.
Three weeks later, just at dusk, Don
and I heard plaintive cat cries in the
long grass. Although we called "kitty,
kitty" until we were sick of the sound of
our voices, all we caught was an
occasional glimpse of a dark cat tail.
tipped with white. For the next few days
we set out offerings of cat food and
milk, and spoke words of comfort and
assurance into the green jungle.
Finally, the focus of all this attention
decided to trust us, and came out of
hiding. It was Fritz.
His right rear foot had been cut
almost in two an inch behind the toes,
and the wound was swollen, festering
and putrid. Don and I surmise that
when Fritz left our barn he headed back
to the only home he knew, four miles
from here on the Staffa road. We also
believe that either on the way to the
now -vacant house or on his return trip
to us, he almost lost his foot to a
long -forgotten muskrat trap, a razor -
like piece of metal or glass. or the tip of
a mower blade. We will never know the
cause, only the effect.
Our friend Francis lent us his
old-fashioned remedy, a bottle of blue
wound dressing, and a big feather as an
applicator. Four times a day for the next
month I swabbed the injured foot with
blue balm. Gradually the pus drained
away, the wound closed, and the hair
grew back. Now the only sign of injury
is two claws that can no longer be
retracted.
That was four years ago. Fritz has
never left our property since the day he
returned. He has obviously decided to
spend his remaining eight lives right
here.
However, 1 was soon tempted to take
a few lives off his years! Not long after
our newly -acquired Bantie hens (a gift
from Francis) started to lay, we began
finding broken, empty eggshells in the
nests. We couldn't imagine what was
happening. Were some of the hens
eating their own product? Was a nearby
skunk or coon supplementing its daily
diet at our expense? The mystery was
solved one hot sultry afternoon when I
caught Fritz "in flagrante delicto ".
curled up in a nest blissfully sucking an
egg.
ommErOb-3
Grabbing him by the scruff of the
neck, I yanked him out and spanked him
soundly before letting him go. From
then on whenever I discovered a
shattered, emptied egg I would find
Fritz, take him to the scene of the crime,
confront him with the evidence and rub
his guilty face in the mess before
dumping him to the ground.
He learned very quickly. After only a
short period of rehabilitative treatment I
would walk into the barn, Fritz would
take one horrified look at his nemesis,
let out a blood -curdling yowl, jump onto
the manger, zip up the vertical two by
four faster than a lineman up a pole,
and disappear into the hay loft.
Who says you can't teach a cat
anything!
•t4•tt*t4
Our experience with Fritz reminds me
of what I once read about Tallulah
Bankhead. Seems she had a pet monkey
which she attempted to housetrain. Her
monkey was as clever as Fritz. After
Miss Bankhead had spanked it a few
times for breaking training, her little
pupil would water her carpet, slap itself
on the rear and jump out the window!
C-043imm4
For the campus from
The Campus Shop
ALSO FASHIONS
FOR INFANTS &
PRE SCHOOLERS
THE
CAMPUS SHOP
92 WELLINGTON ST.
STRATFORD
PHONE 271-3720
Open every day till 5:30
sommmumiumumummimmoFriday evenlna till 9
VILLAGE SQUIRE/SEPTEMBER 1980 PG. 21