On the farm outdoor cats come and go as frequently as the Nebraska wind. On occasion we are blessed to have certain cats stay for extended periods, but more likely than not our feline friends are here for a year or two and then poof! They’re gone.

Such was the case this year. We started the winter with four cats, but as the spring wore on the numbers dwindled. I lost my three-year-old mother cat, Mama K to some unknown illness. We managed to save the kittens, but one by one they succumbed either to illness or varmint attacks. My two tomcats likewise disappeared one by one.

I adopted four cute kittens in May from a friend in town. They appeared to thrive, and we were preparing to take them to get their shots when one female got too curious and suffered the fate of many a farm cat by perching on a truck tire at an inopportune time.

Another tom wandered off early on leaving just two kittens to grow through the summer. When we returned from our trip to Europe in September, we learned the lone female had suddenly died, no clue as to what led to her demise.

That left Snoopy, our loveable, but always underfoot or always on the shop bench investigating cat. After Mollie died in August he was really lost as there was no one to annoy or play with. As the sole survivor of his litter, he grew exponentially being the only one to share the feed dish, except of course with the occasional possum.

When we returned from Europe, we started seeing a stray tom wandering along the edge of the west shelterbelt and after about a week we would hear him yowling his head off walking along the fringes of the yard and the equipment row.

Three weeks ago, he started lurking in the shadows when I would feed Snoopy at night and as I slowly backed away, he would cautiously, tentatively approach the feed dish. It was then that I began to wonder if he might be Snoopy’s long lost sibling as Snoopy didn’t mind the company and their coloring was almost identical.

Two weeks ago, when I caught them playing and cuddling together, I was convinced they were brothers. The loud yowling continued, and I dubbed our Prodigal Son, Sir Y – short for Sir Yowler.

This past week Sir Y has totally succumbed to the luxury of a good head scratching and now is almost an annoyance at the twice daily feedings, rubbing and running in between my legs. While he is definitely not the cuddle cat Snoopy is, he has embraced the comfort of the shop and a ready food supply. He still isn’t Don’s buddy, but rather sits and supervises from a safe distance. This is totally fine with Hubby as having Snoopy underfoot or on his shoulder is quite enough close supervision for those shop projects that always pop up in the fall. So, we are back to two cats, who I am fairly sure will spend the winter in their cushy straw filled corner of the shop. We are planning to adopt some more from a 4-H friend, but her busy schedule and mine haven’t yet jived for a cat exchange.

It will be interesting to see how the Tale of Two Cats fairs when it becomes the Tale of Four or Five cats.