Meet "Booooyyyy"

"Booooyyyy" is one of the four felines that reside in our barn.

I suppose I should start with a word of explanation about his name. When one of the barn kitties had kittens last March, Tom said that I could keep one and only ONE…if it was a boy. I began to call the kitten “Boy-O” …just as Burt Large calls his son in Tom’s favorite show “doc martin”. I knew that it really didn’t matter what his name was, it would get changed to something odd and random. It was just a matter of time.

Case in point, A got a kitten back when we first moved here, and gave her the lovely name, Rosemary. Over time, the poor cat became Booger-B, Ross-nostril, and Tubal among other things. To this day, she is referred to as “Tiny”. (RIP Tiny-Rosemary)

If Booooyyyy could talk, his little cat voice would make his name sound like it is spelled. That is how he answers when spoken to. Meeeeoooowwww! Tom insists on saying the cat’s name exactly the same way. So, I guess that’s his name.


There is nothing particularly outstanding about Booooyyyy. He’s a grey striped cat of average size, living in a barn with his mom, sister, and adopted grandmother. He is a pretty good hunter, although the girls are probably better. He sleeps for hours on end, only waking when it’s time to eat. He meows, he purrs. The only thing unusual about this cat is…well, he seems to
think he’s a DOG!

Seriously!

I don’t know if it is the fact that he fell out of the loft as a small kitten. I suppose there could have been some type of brain injury. I don’t know if it’s my fault for introducing him to the dogs very early in his life with the hope of furthering inter-species peace. Maybe he bonded with the “wrong” species because I had to doctor his badly injured eye before he was old enough to leave the nest. I honestly don’t know WHY he seems to think he’s a dog.


He comes when you call him. He will sit and obeys commands somewhat. He sleeps with the dogs, as well as eating with them. On very cold days, when Ellie feels maternal, he will knead her fur just like he did his own mother.
When they go to bark at something, he goes along. He comes to the back porch for dog cookies as well. He likes to have his belly rubbed. He even attempts to “work the sheep”. He will accompany me when I go out back to feed the ewes and the ram. He does require a “ride” back from the long excursion, though.

"Booooyyyy" is just one more creature that adds to the “atmosphere” around here.


Best of all, he’s a real “man’s cat”.