I'm at my parents' and writing my 300 words a little later than I had hoped for — I've got around 12 minutes to get it done! The reason is that one of my parents' cats, Anastacia, was giving birth to kittens. I found her by the end of the house (all the cats are outdoor cats) with three tiny slightly wet kittens.
I told my dad to get a cardboard box with newspaper so we could move her into the furnace room. He came back and said one of the other cats had given birth in a cardboard box in the garage. I don't know how many kittens she got, but with the three there was already let's just say there will be plenty of kittens!
Someone really should get a couple of the cats sterilized...
They're all outdoor farm cats so most of the time they just take care of themselves. There are no visits to the vet. They get a warm place to sleep, fresh water every day and food. What the do and how they do it is up to them. They catch mice and keep away rats, which is the main task for a farm cat. They fight with the neighbor cat (this is especially the male cat who often gets his ass kicked).
None of the cats have names except one called the Danish word for fluffy (Pjuske) because it has longer fur than the rest. Anastacia also has a name of course. She's the oldest one, I don't know how old, but it's more than 10 years, probably around 15, which is pretty long for a farm cat. This also means she's the boss of them all. The others respect her (she's got a couple of mean paws if you cross her). She had a sister named Nelly, but she disappeared a few years ago.
Apologizes for the rushed post about farm cats... I really should tell the story of Anastacia and Nelly better another day. Right now I have to take care of my (cat) allergies and get to bed so I can get up early and check on all the kittens!