Meet Rattle, Fearless Protector of the Tack

Granary Guardian

It didn't seem right that a cat with such an important job would continue just being "Cat 1".  Not that he minded - cats very seldom have any doubt that they're No. 1.  I'd been putting off calling him anything but "cat" or occasionally goofy cat!  But with a clean bill of health from the vet, recuperated from his snipping, and in charge of keeping the meeces out of my tack, he really needed a name.

He has this he does with his tail.  He'll be perfectly still, but right at the end his tail will be puffy and flickering kind of like a rattlesnake, at least that's what it reminds me of.  Thus, Rattle. 

He assisted me in clearing out the trailer and cleaning and organizing the tack room today.  By getting under foot as much as a feline unconcerned about getting flattened possibly could.

I'm not done, but if I need to haul the horses I can now do so, I can get to the saddles I use, and I have the first aid stuff where I can get to it more quickly.

The help needed a break

Don't get me started on the 3-wheelers.  They belong to T's brother.  They run... sort of.  And they're taking up MY space.  Sigh. 

The Granary had power at one time, but the boxes are full of mud dauber deposits, and as best we can figure out the line runs back through the old stone chicken house but may have been cut when they repaired the water line to the house a couple years ago.  In any case, it's shut off there at the breaker in the chicken house (not that turning it on at the breaker does anything).  So I have to figure out lighting yet.  It's not too bad during the day, at least.

Checking out the new furniture

Rattle had a fine time racing back and forth from the trailer to the tack room, hopping up on top of everything, and alternately chasing and hiding from the broom.  By the time I decided I needed some lunch - and to get started on those cookies for the vet clinic - he was pooped.

Nap time