Patience

Patience is a virtue. Perhaps, but I think it depends on the situation. I can be very patient or insanely impatient. For instance, when I am considering a purchase of a limited commodity I do not want to see if it is available tomorrow.

But when it comes to staying power I can linger longer than anyone or anything, including a cat. When Olivia, our resident female feline, has a litter of kittens it’s a challenge trying to find them.

She selects a secret and secluded place. If she suspects you are following her to find her kittens she will not return to them; instead she will bide her time until you give up. But I can be stubbornly patient.

Last year after she had been downsized from her pregnant state I sneaked into the barn after I saw her jump through the missing pane of a window. Being too large for the window myself I opened the barn door. When she heard the door she walked back towards me.

She was being rather coy, but I knew her tricks. I ignored her and went about the business of picking a post to lean on while I pondered. She sat down in front of me and gave herself a bath. After about 20 minutes or so she tired of this and crept over to the firewood pile. Looking around to make sure I wasn’t watching (I pretended to have my eyes closed) she jumped into an old metal tub. There, among the barks and twigs I had saved for kindling, were her kittens.

This year it got a little more complicated. We first discovered the litter in a hollow beneath a bale of hay. But because we had found them she moved them. Finding the second location was not difficult. I spotted her heading to the barn one afternoon, but when she did not emerge from the lilies below the window I went looking. There they were, gathered in the greenery. Of course now that the cache of kittens had been discovered she would move them.

This third hiding place was the most challenging. Taking advantage of my busy schedule Olivia enjoyed a couple weeks of solitude with her kittens. But they were approaching a month old and if we had any hope of having tame barn cats, they would have to be found soon.

Saturday, after my morning constitutional with Buddy the dog, I noticed that Olivia was hanging around the front steps. With the whole day ahead of me I thought “I have you now.” I made some coffee to accompany the toast topped with strawberry jam that had been laid out for me. Taking the morning paper I seated myself next to the window.

While reading how Democrats and Republicans were waiting to see who would blink first over the debt crisis in Washington, I saw Olivia head for the barn. I scurried through the house to a back door so I could sneak up on her. By the time I got outside she had disappeared. One year she had hidden them in the hostas, but that was too predictable so I continued to the barn. Once she spotted me she went into her routine. But once again I waited her out.

Soon she made her way to a corner where there was a large set of warehouse shelves. Among other things on the shelves were a bunch of windows leaning against the wall. When I saw her climb behind them I headed back to the house for the flashlight.

When I returned I couldn’t find her. Climbing onto the shelf and through the cobwebs I rifled through the windows but she was nowhere to be found. Then I heard the sound of a content cat purring. Getting down on my knees I spotted her on the barn floor beneath the shelf. With only four inches of headroom it was a good hiding place.

This time we made the first move. My son Nathan helped me dismantle the shelf and we moved Olivia and her kittens to the smoke house where they would have room to grow and play. All things come to those who wait. Sometimes.