A Cat A Day Makes One Say "Hurray!" (Rocky)

Yesterday's post was about Snoozey, and today we turn our attention to Rocky, the former farm cat. When I was living on a farm perhaps six years ago, my beloved elderly Shelter rescue cat died. A neighbor down the road had a litter of kittens and of course I took one. I named the new kitten Rocky:

I had two dogs at the time who used to accompany me on my rounds of chores to feed the cattle and the chickens. The dogs had helped raise the baby chicks so came right into the coop with me to visit the friendly chickens. Rocky used to accompany us right down to the door of the chicken coop, though I wouldn't let him in:

A large animal vet, who was out to tend to my cattle, gave Rocky his first vaccinations and neutered him right there on my kitchen counter. When Rocky later woke up, he ran down into the cellar and hid in a crawl space for two days. I wasn't even sure he was alive. But of course he was, and he came out when he was sufficiently hungry. All has been well ever since:

After we moved back into the city, I began volunteering at the Shelter and bringing home lots of dogs and cats as fosters. Rocky thought that was just fine and got along swimmingly with all of them. One cat who I eventually adopted, Draco, has since become an enemy, but their rivalry isn't too serious:

Rocky is the only cat of mine who was not a Shelter rescue. I guess I'd call him a farm rescue. He landed in a life of indoor ease from an otherwise sure future as a barn cat: