A Tribute to Tia: Summer Week #15 – 9/17/25
Tia was the coolest cat we’ve had at this farm for a long, long time.
He came to us on a cold November night, the day after the presidential election. A fellow farmer has a feral kitten issue on her farm and asked if anyone could take some kittens off her hands. At that moment, cute kittens seemed the perfect thing for myself and the crew.
Beth live-trapped the kittens, and we met up at a location between the two of us – the Oregon hockey ice arena parking lot. From the very beginning, little Tia was loved. Members of my hockey team all took turns holding the little kittens, cooing and snuggling them right there in the lot.
Over the next couple of cold months, I slowly acclimated these kittens to our farm and to human touch. I stuffed them in my zip up sweatshirt to keep them warm and get them used to my smell. They stayed in my heated office at first – a safe warm space in the barn. Tia and his sister, Ruffles, trashed my office, but I didn’t care. I spent the quiet winter months with kittens on my lap, kittens on my keyboard, kittens wrestling on the window sill.
By spring, the kittens were getting really friendly, and were finally litter trained. I let them become indoor/outdoor cats in my home.
I was becoming attached. I usually try not to. Crossroads, is after all, located on the crossroads of two busy roads. Barn cats don’t live super long lives here, as there is no way to train them from adventuring on the road. There are mice aplenty in the barns, kibble always available, but most cats get curious and begin to adventure. Steel at 55 miles an hour always wins against their softness. So I know better than to get attached.
Yes, I know better than to get attached. But Tia, Tia was a special cat. He was all gray with the softest fur of any cat I’ve known. He was curious and playful in the fields, and a super cuddler in the home. He just wanted you to snuggle him, like all the time. I often called him a living stuffed animal. Just ready to be at your side whenever and wherever. He would contort his body in the funniest ways just to be next to me. He was so sweet, and this was especially touching given his oh so feral beginning.
Usually I notice the cats along roadsides prowling at night, and I know that their time is likely limited. I have time to prepare my heart for the inevitable. But Tia and his sister LOVE being in the house. They were the most house-focused barn cats I have ever had. I started to believe they might be around for awhile.
Last Thursday morning, I found poor Tia hit just 2 feet from my driveway. His soft little body was still warm. I sobbed. And well frankly, tears are coming as I write this homage. That sweet little silly gray cat got into my tough farmer heart. The heart that knows better than to get attached to a farm cat.
I picked up his soft gray body and walked him out to the wetlands on the east on our fields. There is a large willow tree out there, surrounded by goldenrod, which is strikingly gorgeous this time of year. I laid him down in the sea of yellow and said goodbye.
My girls are fine. Life has taught them over the years that cats come and go. For this I am grateful. And while I’m still really sad, I will always remember this little guy who we called Tia, short for Tortilla.
His littler mate, Ruffles, is still with us. She’s much more skittish than her brother, but seeking out human touch way more than normal. I wonder if she misses him too. They napped and wrestled together – a bonded pair. Who knows how she experiences the sudden disappearance of him.
Life is full of connections… some human, some from other living creatures. Some brief and some long. Some whimsical, some incredibly deep. I am humbled by the experience of this little barn cat somehow making its way into my heart. The tough farmer’s heart that knows better. I am grateful for the reminder that sometimes knowing better isn’t guard enough, and something beautiful finds a way in.
Thanks little buddy. We’ll all miss you on the farm, Tia.
Cheers,
Farmer Cassie
