They say that black cats crossing your path is bad luck. However, black cats mean no rats, and that's good luck for the farmer. -- BKF
Maaten Baurbrand knew there was something out there in the night. She couldn't see it, couldn't hear it, couldn't even smell it, but she knew it was there.
Every time she went out in the dark to be sure the cow shed was shut, there was the sense that something else was out there with her.
She startled at movement out of the corner of her eye, but saw nothing more than a stalk or three swaying in the breeze. Yet there was a sense of something small, or at least low to the ground, stalking in the inky blackness of night.
And every morning, there were little grey corpses laying in the open areas near the fields and the grain storage shed. Mice and rats. Well... parts of mice and rats. The gossips and goodwives agreed that she should lay out fresh milk for the good spirits because something was helping her.
Good spirits always accepted offerings from the harvest or the gathering.
Well, there was nothing fresher than right from the cow's udders. Maaten got into the habit of milking the first cow directly into a shallow bowl and putting it straight into a darkened corner of the barn.
And then, one day, the shadows came out.
Low to the ground. Black as pitch. Silent as... well... cats.
One of them, still ready to bolt, meowed.
"Ah, so you're the good spirits killing the vermin. Can't say I'm that shocked." Maaten put the bowl down by the shadows, watching as more eyes became more cats. "Better you than a pack of devils, and I ain't come to any ill fate from your presence." She knew better than to try and pat them. They were half wild and still mostly wary. They'd decide when to be friendly.
The next time she caught a fish, she gave them half. With all the bones taken out, of course. As thanks.
Now that she knew what they were, Maaten carefully cleaned a stone and left it in the bowl, in case some kittens fell in. They could make their way out with that much help.
In three weeks, one started rubbing against her leg, and accepted scratches and pets. In five more, that particular black cat decided that Maaten's home was a good place to sleep.
It caught mice and rats there, too, so Maaten didn't mind it.
Though she had to buy a lantern soon. She kept tripping or nearly stepping on the darned thing.
[Photo by Rishabh Dharmani on Unsplash]
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