The Sandman Retires

We live on a farm, and we have outdoor farm 'supervisors' also known as cats.  We have been fortunate to have a good track record with our outdoor friends that have lived very long lives.  Cubby left us a couple of years ago and we estimate that she was approaching fifteen years of age at that time.  Doughboy actually moved with us from Minnesota and made it to eleven (or more) years.  He even had the grace to let us know, in his cat way, that his time had come.  He was even more friendly than usual one early Spring day... and then he disappeared, as only a cat can do.

I must be going now.  I, the Sandman, have spoken.

Two years ago, Mrranda disappeared from our farm at only four years of age.  Being the soft-hearted and ever hopeful sorts, we held out hope for far too long that she'd just show up again.  Perhaps Rob more than Tammy since he is a bit less realistic about such things - but we both hoped, even though we knew.

The Sandman gets a 'virtual' skritch from the Farmer's shadow.

And now, we have to admit that the Sandman is not going to turn up after a prolonged absence that began just before one of the heavier April snows.  Surely six years is far too short of time to have known such an excellent creature. 

After all, who wouldn't love THIS mug?

We do have some Sandman sayings left to share in the future, so he may show up in blog posts with more things to say 'posthumously.'  After all, he has been speaking for us since 2012.  We even asked our farmers' market customers to put words into his mouth in December of that year. 

Ever helpful, that Sandman.

Perhaps the most revealing interview of the Sandman is this one from 2015.  You can really get a feel for his personality.  And, of course, he was ALWAYS helpful - even with the harvest.

Rest well, Sandman.  We, your farmers, have spoken.