Tom the Terrible

Tough Tom the Barn Cat

            Tough Tom was a barn cat. He really didn’t start out to be a barn cat. And, the Day family who lived on the farm didn’t think they needed a cat, but there he was.

It all began on a cold, windy, sleety winter day. When Chris went to the barn to check the loft for eggs the hens liked to hide in the hay, there was Tom! He crouched under a feed trough, yellow eyes glittering in the darkness of the barn.

“Hello” Chris said. “Who are you and where did you come from?”

The cat (for at that time, he had no name) didn’t move, except he was shivering.

Chris knelt beside the trough and peered at him. “Oh, you’re hurt. Your ear is bleeding and part of your fur is gone. Why, you’re just skin and bones. I’ll bet you’re hungry.”

He hurried to the house and told his mom and dad about the cat.

“A cat?” asked Jill, Chris’s sister. “I’ve always wanted a cat.”

“A cat?” Dad put down his paper. “We don’t need a cat.”

“He isn’t friendly,” said Chris. “In fact, he looks sort of mean, but he is hurt and he is hungry.”

Mom poured some rich, yellow cream into a saucer. “Take this to him,” she said. “But, don’t try to pet him. He may be hurting, and he won’t know if you are a friend or foe.”

Jill went with Chris as they took the cream to the barn. The cat was still under the feed trough, shivering. Jill reached out her hand. “Nice kitty,” she said.

The cat drew back and hissed. Jill hid her hand in her coat.

“I’ll leave the cream here,” Chris said. “Then, I’ll go up to the loft and bring down some hay for a bed. He sure looks tough, doesn’t he?”

Jill nodded. “He does. Tough Tom. That’s a good name.”

The children left the hay and the cream and hurried through the freezing rain back to their warm house.

The next morning, before they went to school, Jill and Chris ran to the barn to check on Tom. He was still there, but the saucer was empty and he had burrowed under the hay. Chris brought another saucer of left-over breakfast gravy with just a bit of sausage. Tom didn’t move.

“We’ll let him be,” Chris said. “At least, he knows we’re friendly.”

“I think he looks a tiny bit better,” Jill said.

So, that’s the way Tom came to be the barn cat for the Day family. Tom worked for his daily food. He scared away every mouse or rat that came close. And, those he didn’t scare away, he added to his diet.

“I guess he’s pretty good, for a cat,” Dad said. “It’s nice not to have mice and rats in the sacks of feed any more. Now, if he could just take care of the coyotes too.”

“I’m afraid it’d take more than one small cat to scare those coyotes,” Mom said. She shook her head. “They’ve caught a lot of my chickens and all of the guineas.”

“They’re a menace,” Mr. Day agreed.

Sometimes the children called him Tough Tom or Tom the Terrible. But, even though he kept the barn free of rodents and always ate the food they brought him, he never became friendly.

One rainy night when Chris and Jill took Tom his supper of a nice, crisp fish patty, they got a surprise.  A baby chick fell out of its nest in the loft and landed right in front of Tom’s nose. The feathered baby appeared to be stunned for a moment, then shook its downy feathers and took a few steps toward Tom’s fish supper.

“Oh, no” Jill whispered. “Tom will bite that baby. We have to rescue it.”

“No, wait,” Chris said. “If I try to move the chick, Tom will scratch me.” He crossed his fingers.

The children watched, too scared to know what to do. Then, a strange thing happened. Tom gently touched the little chicken with his nose.  He ate part of his fish patty and the chick pecked at part of it. Then, Tom watched his small visitor, seeming to be curious.

“He likes the chick!” Jill said.

“Well, at least he does so far,” Chris said. “Let’s go back to the house. In the morning, we’ll come and see what has happened to that poor little chicken.”

The next morning, when Jill and Chris brought Tom’s breakfast, they peeked under the feed trough, then they both rubbed their eyes and looked again. “I feel like I’m seeing things that aren’t there,” Chris said.

“I know. Me too,” Jill whispered.

Tom lay snuggled asleep in the hay and the baby chick slept right between Tom’s paws. Chris left the saucer of cream then he and Jill quietly walked back up the hill to the house. “Did you see that?” Chris asked.

Jill nodded. “Tom likes the chick. He has found a buddy.”

That night, the family sat in front of the fireplace, talking over the day’s happenings. Chris was just about to nod off to sleep when a loud sound caused him to sit upright.

“It’s the coyotes again!” he said, his heart hammering.

“And, they are awfully close,” Mom said.

“They sound so scary,” Jill said.

“They are too close,” Dad said. “I’m going to take my gun and shoot up in the air. Maybe I’ll scare them away.”

“Are they at the barn?” Jill asked.

“They are,” Chris said. “Oh, no! What if they came to get Tom or Little Chick?”

Tears sprang to Jill’s eyes.

“Stay behind me,” Dad said. He shrugged into his coat and got his gun from the locked cabinet.

Silently, he slipped from the house and walked toward the barn. Mom, Chris and Jill followed. The dark shadows of two coyotes raced through the moonlight and stopped in front of the barn.

Chris bit his lip to keep from yelling because there, facing them was Tom’s friend, Little Chick.

A flurry of movement erupted from the barn. Tom sprang at the closest coyote, snarling and spitting. Then he whirled and sank his claws into the second coyote, just as the coyote sprang.

The surprised coyotes yelped and backed away. “Shoo!” Dad yelled, firing his gun up into the air.

The coyotes ran off into the dark. Chris and Jill crouched beside Tom and the chick. Neither one was hurt. And, strangely enough, Tom didn’t snarl when Chris reached out to pet him.

“That’s the first time I’ve known of a cat scaring away coyotes!” Mom said, smiling at Tom. “He truly is Tom the Terrible.”

“Yes,” said Jill, “and he’s also Tom the Terrific, Tom the Tenderhearted, Tom the…”

Chris grinned. “He’s True Friend Tom and he’s just what we needed.”

“Yes,” Dad agreed. “We’ve always needed a cat just exactly like Tom.”