Squeaky’s Farm is the story of Squeaky, our now fifteen-year-old cat, a dearly loved, highly respected family member. After her harrowing early years on city streets, Squeaky chose to spend the rest of her life with us. She may have been re-thinking that commitment after we flew her to Spain’s Extremadura region to live at Lagar La Señora, a dilapidated near-ruin of a stone house at the center of a rustic seventeen-acre farm.
In Extremadura, “lagar” can mean “farmhouse,” “rustic farm,” “place where olive trees and vineyards grow,” or “building where wine-making equipment is located.” It was all of that for us. Lagar La Señora is more than a century old, sparking memories of times gone by. Our kind of farm. At the time we were there, life was still simple, even primitive. The closest pueblo (village) was Madroñera, about a mile down the hill from our new home, where we brought our tired, frightened cat in the spring of 1999. Squeaky faithfully rose to the occasion. Her feline sense of adventure prevailed, as did her choices from the heart when it came to sharing life with us in very unusual circumstances. We are grateful she didn't give up on us.