October 29 is National Cat Day. It's been that way since 2005.Everyone and everything else seems to have a day so why not a day for cats. I don't mind pets. I have just one rule and that's one pet and that's it. However, I'm married and have a family so that rule doesn't apply to me. Besides the horses and a couple dogs we've had cats ever since the beginning of married life for me.

A while back I ran across an old photo of my wife back in the day when we had nearly 30 cats running around outside. It showed her walking to the barn with their food. It was funny. Kind of like the Pied Piper. A long string of cats following her.

Over the years the population gradually thinned out. It was only a few years ago we were down to one poor old female and 6 toms. If I owned a gun I would have put her out of her misery. A little sensual pleasure is fine but those 6 toms we had were in the prime of life.I'm sure I know what killed that poor old gal. One after another. What a way to go.

Just recently my daughter brought home a stray from work. We have since learned that little Henry is deaf. Not sure how long he'll last. Since he can't hear, he thinks everything is safe. Then someone gave my wife an interesting cat(my wife has a reputation I believe)  We now have a cat with no tail. I did a little reading and there is actually a breed of cat that has just a pug instead of a tail. It's kind of like any fur bearing creature that's down on its luck gets brought home by my wife. Can't complain as that's how she got me.

And finally I have my old Ginger. She was retrieved by (guess who?) out of a dumpster behind a meat locker. Ginger just kept following me around and then one morning she started bringing me mice. Aha, a cat that can earn its keep. Nothing lives in my playhouse since I moved Ginger in. Mice, birds, vols, moles and whatever don't stand a chance.She also is anti social and detests any other cat coming up to my playhouse. The old gal and I are a perfect match. I sit in my shed watching old movies with a blanket and Ginger in my lap. Kind of looks like I'm practicing for the nursing home. She's now 13 or 14 years old and no longer meows. She just let's out this horrible whine like she's being tortured. I think it's actually a sign that she's old and spoiled and expects everything her way.

Happy National Cat Day.