A Kitten In the Old Barn

 My son Brian & I had been thinking about getting a kitten for the longest time but there was always a reason why we put it off. Truth is those reasons were just excuses. My excuses. The thought of bringing a kitten into our home exhausted me. I did not welcome the responsibility.

Besides Brian wanting us to get a kitten, so did my two grandchildren, ages 11 and 14. I would keep telling them "Pretty soon." Then they would get busy, or I would get busy, and it never happened.
Until this past week.
Another summer was quickly passing by and soon, I told myself, they would not bother to ask about going for a kitten. They'd have more important things to do.
And so, late one morning this past week, after telling Brian what I was up to, I picked those two grandchildren up. I said we were going to lunch and then maybe Alex Bay for the afternoon.
After having our lunch, I told them I had to make a quick trip to Walmart. Once inside, I put a few things in my cart. Then I led them to the Pet Department. Stopping the cart in the middle of an aisle full of Kitty/cat stuff, I stood there smiling. They caught on immediately. They were smiling too as we filled that cart with anything a new little kitty leaving home for a new home would need-everything from little matching kitty dishes for its food and water, little balls that jingled, squeaky mice, fuzzy little characters on strings, kitty treats, kitten food, kitty litter, kitty bed, kitty collar.
It felt like Christmas.
Once we checked out, we were on our way in search of a kitty.
Our kitty.






That search turned out to be harder than I thought it would be. After driving to places you go to in search of kitties and puppies and not finding our kitty, I told them we would go to another place in the morning.
On our way back to my home, i stopped at an Amish farm. One of my favorite Amish farms. I wanted to get some cookies, and Brian had asked me to get some more Strawberry-Rhubarb Jam. As I was picking out the cookies, I asked the young Amish girl if she knew of any farms with kittens.
"We have kittens," she replied.
Minutes later we were happily following the young girl down to an old barn, walking past teams of horses hitched to wagons. Dogs were running around. Amish men and boys were getting ready to go thrashing. My grandchildren were trying not to step on cowpies!
The kittens were found outside the barn, playing in the shade. There were five of them. One was orange and wild. The others were variations of white and black. One in particular, the runt of the group, came over to me. Sat in front of me and looked at me.
Quietly. Preciously.
That little kitten has been embraced by Brian and those two happy grandchildren.
At the moment, the kitty is chasing squeaky mice around the kitchen. We originally named her Daphne. But that has to change. The vet confirmed today she-is a He! Surprise-but nothing changes.
He is our little kitty, loved and having lots of fun and now playing with the jingly balls and those squeaky mice and fuzzy little characters on strings.

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