2023/2024
Collection 19

Farm Cats

1993; Moberly, Missouri, USA

It’s a couple of weeks into summer, and I’m living my best life. Today we’re going to my grandparents’ farm, and it’s my favorite place. What’s not to love about the old oak with the swing, or the big red barn. The farm is so serene and tranquil. But my favorite part of the farm is the cats. There are so many cats — black, white, ginger, and calico. There are two cats, however, that my sister and I adore: Blackie and Marshmallow. Marshmallow is my sweet calico cat, while Blackie is Jen’s sleek black cat. This spring our cats had kittens, and we got to name them! I’m so excited to be back at the farm!

I hop out of my dad’s pickup truck with Jen to greet my grandparents. After we eat lunch, we go outside. All over the lawn are cats, snoozing in the sun or scurrying after rodents. We walk into the barn, where even more cats are hiding from the afternoon heat. Nestled in the back of the barn in piles of hay, our cats lie surrounded by kittens. We make our way to them, and my sister strokes Blackie while I pet the kittens. Blackie’s kittens are white with gray patches, despite their mom being completely black. However, the runt of the litter, Powderpuff, has no gray spot, and has a crooked paw. As I stroke him, I know he has to be mine.

However, my parents have said, “Jeanine, you can’t have a cat.” So I shove this thought away and focus on playing with the cats. Jen and I play with them until our parents announce that it’s time to go, and we say goodbye to our grandparents. Little did I know that I might never see the farm again.

It’s a few weeks before we get the news: Mom tells us that Grandpa died, and Grandma is going to have to sell the farm. I would never again see the sparkling blue waters of the duck pond, or the vast golden fields, or even the porch with the creaky swing and the peeling paint, or the barn. My whole childhood, my sanctuary, would be gone forever.

Then I worry about the cats. Even though Mom just told us that Blackie and Marshmallow and all of the other female cats would be safe with the neighbor, all of the boy cats would be left in the wild. Then Mom told me the best news ever: I could finally get a cat.

We took one final trip to the farm, and I soaked it all in for the last time. I said my final goodbye to Grandma, and then I went for a walk. As I walked through the barn, it hit me, and I knew exactly which cat to keep. So that’s how I came to now — with Powderpuff curled up on my lap as I watched the farm fade into the distance, knowing that I had made the right choice.

Mackenzie Sasek; Missouri, USA

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