05/02/2026
Yesterday we said goodbye to my most beloved barn cat, Stripe. He was a tabby Scottish fold, and an astonishing 25 years old. Not everyone loved stripe, especially in his younger days. He was considered the bully of the neighborhood, he would strut out of the slough like a bobcat and assert his dominance wherever he went. Even the dogs of the neighborhood would be scared to walk by. Grandpa decided long ago he would get rid of the problem, and restore peace by getting rid of the cat. He tried several times, and missed shot after shot. About 8 years ago stripe started coming around the barn and staying the night more and more. After all the things I've seen and stories I heard, I was hesitant to let him stick around in fear for my other barn cats safety. But the more I watched the more I realized the king must have finally relinquished his thrown and stepped down. He waited patiently for the other cats to finish their meals before he came in for the leftovers, he stayed hidden and didn't cause any problems. After about a month he started coming right up to my feet when it was feeding time. I started becoming found of the tattered old beast. So I took a deep breath, put my sweater down over my hand and reached down to pet him. Best decision i made. He started purring almost instantly and rolled over for me to pet his belly. Grandpa could hardly believe his eyes when I came out one day holding him. He's been under our feet ever since. I will miss him.
