Black and White Kitties

I have a black and white kitty.  Gary sometimes calls him a Holstein cat. 

Not long after he arrived, he took charge of the house. During the day, he demands certain food. If he is served something he doesn't like he sniffs and walks off in a huff. Every morning he comes to me for his bit of hair ball medicine, which he needs daily for digestion as he ages. He requires his door persons to open and shut the doors so he can sit on the deck and keep track of the goings of Mittens, Koala and other cats that wonder through his domain.  He snarls at them, fluffs up his fur, but he is far too old to do more than have a hissy fit.  

At night, he must accompany me upstairs for his evening ritual.  He sits on my chest and stairs into my eyes as I scratch his ears. He must stay there for at least ten minutes as I try to read, moving the book around so it does not disturb him.  If the book bumps him, he head butts it out of my hands.  A guy has rights. 

My friend Susan has cats, too, three of them in her house and more outside.  She and Bob have a farm.  Horrible as it is, people drop their unwanted pets off in the country and some find their way to Sunnybook farm.  But three cats inside is enough.  When a female cat arrived, she had three black and white kittens in the barn then abandoned them. They follow Bob around because he feeds them, but he is worried about the little guys with all the farm machinery around.  How often before they are run over?  When the big combine is rolling, he locks them on the porch. 

Gary parks his camper out there on the farm and he, too, is careful not to run down a kitten.  As he was putting away camping gear this morning he caught a glimpse of a black and white kitty out of the corner of his eye.  

He turned and caught this photo with his phone:

It was a young skunk, still a kit, frolicking and playing around the farm machinery.  

He sent the photo to Bob:  I came out to get more stuff from trailer and saw a fourth black & white kitty that Bob must have overlooked. I was going to put it on the porch with the others but it eluded me. Maybe Bob can round it up.

I'll settle for Rascal.