Darn Cat!

Moxie is somewhat of an adventurous soul. She is playful and spunky but also has a fairly high pain in the ass quotient. Moxie considers all open doors as an invitation to snoop. Tonight, post garage parking I saw her running up the driveway, headed straight for the garage. Wearing winter boots I ducked and dived attempting to get in the way of her mad dash. Being a cat she is a wee bit more agile than I am. Into the garage she goes. The garage is a supposedly cat free area. This is to prevent those annoying foot prints all over the hood and windshield. Giving up, I leave the big door open, gather my bags and head to the house and warmth.

Later, out doing dog chores, I see Moxie streaking past headed to the barnyard. As I move through my chore routine, Moxie follows. Going into the feed shed I nearly squash her with my feet. You would think this would faze her. No such luck, she just moves onto the hay stack and waits for another opportunity to ambush. As I give the horses their grain, she shares her good spirits with the horses by brushing against their legs. This always makes me distinctly nervous, envisioning what a 1400 pound horse could do to a 10 pound cat. (She's a pretty small cat, probably smaller than that.)

At the round bales, she stays on mouse patrol while I fork off layers of hay for the sheep and horses. Happy as could be in the snow. With each fork laden trip, Moxie follows faithfully in my shadow, sometimes running ahead scouting the way.

She detours when the dogs thunder by. Stopping to pounce out at them and start a game of chase, easily climbing the nearest fence. I once came out in the morning to find her curled up with Bella the 70 pound Maremma pup. She is fearless when I feed the dogs. Fully expecting them to allow her a tidbit or two from their dishes. Bella will sit and wait patiently but Reba gets anxious and stomps her with her front paws. Yet, each day, Moxie's in there like a dirty shirt, attempting to eat Reba's food.

The funniest Moxie story would be when Tessa was being reluctant to get into the car. I had the door open, walked away to grab Tessa's collar when the cat hopped into the car and sat down. Tessa moved like streaked lightning, leaping into the car to glare at the cat. The look on her face clearly said, "This is my car, beat it furball!" Moxie, being Moxie, didn't bat an eyelash and just moved to the drivers side, where I scooped her up and sent her on her way.

She may be a pain, but she's a cool pain. Who wouldn't want a neat cat like that? Oh yeah, the person who dumped her on the side of the road.