Satan, called “Satie” was a mouser, a tom cat that was very good at his job.
No other cat was apt to creep on to the Maine farm, to set paws in any of the buildings.
But periodically he would leave his post on the Maine farm and head to town. To court, spark, flirt and get in to awful fights with other cats. Cats defending their turf, their jobs as mousers too.
Satie would come back to the Maine farm all scratched, ears nicked, bleeding and worn out. But nursed back to health, he would be back patrolling the barn, grainary, outbuildings to catch field mice. Rodents who liked a winter of grain, inside under cover living. Instead of out in the howling northwest winds and being out in the open weather elements.
The total black cat was not the most social, not going to hop in your lap, rub up against your leg.
Satie had a job to do, knew his place on the Maine farm. I remember taking him to Dr Perkins, the vet on Court Street in Houlton Maine to put him to sleep at age fourteen. When he was worn out, slowly dying and Dad told us it was time.
My Dad had a Newfoundland called Duke who he always told us four boys that the big black dog was pretty Clark Kent, mild mannered. But the easy going dog with the great disposition turned over the leaf when a German Sheperd down the road became more and more aggressive. One day backing Duke in to the corner of a machine shed and nipping, bullying. Until Duke had had enough. And nearly ripped the Sheperd’s throat out which caused the farm intruder dog to high tail it with something between his legs. And never to return.
Animals are a big part of a kid’s childhood, a family’s Maine home.
Through thick and thin, the pets are there. And on a Maine farm they are usually working animals. Large boned horses that pull the cut logs out of the woods. Carefully side stepping tree stumps to avoid the load of logs catching, fetching up on an object. Anything that would interfere with delivery of the wood twitch to the yard.
Do you have a pet that is always glad to see you, especially when you fire up a can opener? Or toss them a treat, scratch behind their ears? I think pets sense your moods, like to be close for attention and we need to give them more credit for the role they play in our lives.
Elderly folks especially are no longer alone, shut in by themselves when a pet is allowed where they live.
Maine, the living is simple, down to earth and easy to understand. We name our Maine cows too, feel just as close to them too because we count on them, care for them. Watch our Maine local community videos.