Kylie Bax Poros
> Nipper was a wee kitten when i caught him hiding in the bushes of our first farmlet.
> I was 9. He was maybe a 9 weeks old. He was small but fast. Already knowlegable about his ability to hide amongst the long grass and shrubs.
> I named him nipper after i caught him because of the bite that he gave me on my finger when i caught him. It hurt and bled with intensity but i didnt let nipper go. Instead i took him to the barn and gave him food and milk. He wasnt sure at first. And i wasnt sure he would still be at the barn the next days but i brought milk and food in anycase and gradually he became friendly.
> However over the year not only did we have one cat but another cat came and nipper became a daddy cat a little while later.
> These barn cats were still wild. They still maintained their farm freedom and life. Nipper even became friends with our big black colt in the barn paddock.
> One day Nipper never came to get his milk . We looked and called over and over again. For days. Nothing.
> Then my father came home and said he had found the body of nipper. Nipper had got stuck down a rabbit hole. Half in and half out lay his body with a large hole that the colt had made around him trying to dig him free.
> That was a sad day. But an incredulous day. Of a small cat and a large black colt , friends till the end.