Funny how things work out. In the most recent of past, and for years, I have been the only female on the ranch. Save for the poultry, of course. Yes, they do count, it’s just different. Even though, I do have a connection to all things living, my fowl have more personal space. They have the production of egg laying, to pay attention to. Not to be hanging out with me. I see to their daily needs, while Tinker-Belle oversees their housing unit and checks to be sure all is running smoothly in the yard.
Tinker-Belle is the oldest and smallest, of the three gals. She came on the scene as a tiny babe of three weeks and a day. This was many years past - At that time, she corralled, and stole the hearts of all the boys who roamed our lands. Boys were of the majority at that time. There were five male cats, two male dogs and two male horses.
This tiny little slip of a Siamese bred cat, was is the “it”. She leads us down the mile long, gravel lane, and then, off to where she wants to go, doing what she wants to do. Though, she does come when called, herds the others, and stays in the fenced in area of the ranch. In that respect, she is the model feline. Or is Tinker a canine? NAW!
Like it was yesterday, in my mind, I can still see the horses approaching us from far off. I hear the thunder they created, as they excitedly ran to greet her. When they reached the fence line where we were walking, the horses abruptly halted, stretched their necks out while sticking their noses under the lowest barbed wire. Turning their heads, they smelled of her fluffiness, deeply. This newly arrived female presence on the ranch, was a blessed event to these big boys. It had been quite some time, since a female was in their midst. To them, she smelled like a girl! As for Tinker-Belle’s initial response, not a beat was skipped. Nor did she faulter in her step, when these stately beasts showed up out of nowhere, and sniffed of her every inch. This was quite an ordeal for her to remain composed and in control, as she was not much bigger than the hooves of the horses who blew hot air into her pristine, white fur coat.
Obviously, Tinker was a force to be reconned with. And, she knew it. Being a female certainly has it’s perks, in the animal world.
As a tiny kitten, until three years of age, Tink was pure white, with the exception of her ears, hands, feet and tip of her tail. These were tipped in a dark, chocolate brown color. Her bright, pink harness, coupled with a home-made, pink studded - rhinestone collar, make for a perfect compliment to her coloring and attitude.
It’s a decade later, and it appears we have become a super fearless, quite fabulous, foursome. We consist of a pair of loving canines, one awesome cat and a loving, human-mom. It’s no wonder, Tinker is the one who rules the roost. She is the trail boss. Tinker-zilla is the alpha girl in our community of fur. She can knock them down and drag them out, sweet talk them and even make them pout - No matter their size or their affiliation, Tinker wins, whiskers down! Directly under her charge, are Sage and Cinnamon, who incidentally, are the epitome of the best of best of friends. Should there happen to arise a problem, I know, Cinni and Sage, would have Tinker’s back.
In the early morning hours it’s beginning to be O’light-thirty. Time for we four girls, Tinker-Belle, Sage, Cinnamon, and I, set out to venture into an area I have cordoned as a ‘No Bounds’ area for the livestock. The objective is to have a morning stroll to get our bodies moving, a release of energy, check out the fence line and to water the many gardens and several trees that encompass our living space.
In the past, it was nothing for me to hand carry several buckets of water to all, in the large area of gardens on the ranch. Although, now I simply wheel around a trolly that I assembled out of a few special interest items, which I had harbored for later use in the pile out back. Nearly all ranches, farms, and homesteads, have a No Discard, section to their property. This is where the still serviceable items will eventually go and await their purposefulness, where these pieces and parts will eventually have an opportunity to become a new creation. Need something useful for a special idea, those items are located in that beautiful rummage pile of goods. As a result of this “injunuity” (I’m NA, take no offense, it’s a spin), I no longer have the need to carry the water by bucket. All that is necessary now, is to simply pull the water wagon that I have fashioned, open the petcock to allow the flow of water onto the greens, once empty, I refill the vessel in ready for the coming of the marrow. Voila!
Though, I am no longer carrying these many buckets, this has not been a deterrent to the girls. In fact, I believe it has created more of a passion for them to want to go jaunting about. They all continue to look forward to walking the grounds and tagging along with me, while helping hindering me, with the morning chores antics. Especially for Tinker-Belle. She may be a small feline, but she can keep up with the longest of legs. Perhaps even, out run them in times of trouble or that of looking for it. At one point in time, Tinker tried taking a ride on top of the wagon. But, this proved to be difficult, as she was unable to balance on the slick surface of the water vessel. Of course, you know I laughed - Not at her, albeit with her. Yet I somehow, do not think she considered this to be humorous, at all. Especially since she is a cat who is poised and full of grace. However, she does enjoy a ride in the truck or the 4 x 4. It’s cute to watch the three pile into the seat, and off we go - Like the prom dress of a drunk teenager.
Blessings ~