Sweazea Minifarm

This is Big Jake.
He's five or six years old now. Thinks he is the boss.
Only problem with Jake has always been keeping weight on him.
But even when he is thin like this, he will go at around 100 pounds.
(That's Boo in the background)

These are some of my barn cats.
Without them, we would be over run with mice and rats.
I'll tell you a little about them, left to right.

1. Smokey - Smokey has passed on, but was a good cat. He had been
placed with a farmer before us. One day the farmer was petting him
and Smokey bit and scratched him pretty bad. My daughter got a call
asking if we would take him. We did. He was very gentle and got along
well with the other cats. Then one day, I was petting him. I ran my
hand under his stomach to scratch him. I knew instantly I had made a
mistake. He scratched me up a little. Smokey had a hernia. We never
touched him in that area again and he never hurt anyone again.

2. Mz. Astor - She was born on the farm and was very wild for two or
three years. Then all of a sudden, she decided she wanted some
attention. Nice cat ever since.

3. Mr. T - One of the best barn cats around. Born here and will stay here
until he dies. One of my two favorites.

4. Romeo - Romeo was placed in a cage at a very young age and was
kept there for over two years. When we got him, he could barely
stand on his back legs. When we let him out of the cage, he walked
out of the barn and just looked up in amazement.
He has been here a couple of years and experienced a lot.
A great little cat. My other favorite.

A lot of people think they are saving animals by putting them in cages
for long periods of time. I look at it like this. I think a few months or
years of freedom is better than a lifetime in a cage. We have taken in
several cats from rescue groups. I make no promises. I just give them
a place to stay, food, water and a little kindness.

This newspaper article will be published tomorrow.
I just couldn't wait.

This is Clyde after a hard day of sleeping.
She is a female, calico manx cross.
Why the name?
She was a stray. My wife would go out to feed the ducks and
call our favorite pair, Bonnie and Clyde.
Well, when she called Clyde the duck, the stray cat would come up for food.
The name stuck. We moved her in the house because the other cats picked on her.
She been here at least seven or eight years. I'm not really sure.

Can you really train a cat?

Click Here!

Hay/Feed barn on the left.
Stalls on the right.

How's this for cool?

Since we are having triple digit temperatures over a lot of the U.S.,
I decided to post a few winter photos of the farm.

This is Killer a couple of years ago.
I don't know what breed she is. Maybe a Heinz 57. Maybe a little Pit.
I named her Killer as a joke. She was 3 pounds and barely weaned.
Someone had dumped her out.
By the way, she wouldn't hurt anything (I think).
She is now eight years old and as you can tell, has a weight problem.

Not much to say. They are still here.

Murphy and Fletcher discussing the price of feed.
I'll have a lot to say and show about Fletcher later on.
He was the greatest dog I have ever known.
Notice I didn't say owned. I didn't own him.
He was a part of the family.

Another old Polaroid.

I don't care what anyone says, Murphy was a good looking filly.
I will not be making many comments, just showing pictures of Murphy growing up.

This is me feeding the chickens.
I spent the first 14 years of my life on a dairy north of Terrell
in what is called the Poetry Community.
I guess I've spent a good 58 years caring for some kind of animals,
except for the six years in the Navy. (I was one of the animals then)

A few months later, this happened.
We named her "Last Minute Murphy"
My youngest daughter wanted Murphy to be born on her birthday.
Murphy was born after midnight.
I guess we should have named her "Too Late Murphy"
She was born a yellow dun, but that sure changed over time.

Sunnys Stormy Minute
AQHA Mare, Red Dun, 5 or 6 years old at the time of this picture.
We call her Stormy. Sometimes the name fits.
She was the first horse on the farm and she is still here.

This is the house in Feb. or March of 1991.
My Father-in-law had come from California for a visit.
My wife had started painting the house orange.
No fences, barns, etc.