From Grace Cauthon Bausch, “Kindness is not an act, it’s a reflection of your soul.” She seems to have a knack for finding good thoughts on Facebook.

Do you recall that about three months ago, Kimball who is definitely a cat person, decided that our tail-less cat, Jack, needed a kitten to keep him company during the times we and Davis’ dog leave him alone in the house?  We decided on a black kitten so we wouldn’t have white hair on the furniture and a female because neutered males seem to have urinary tract problems.

Kimball put out the word to Bobby Fleener who seems to have an endless supply of cats. One day Davis brought back a black female kitten he had gotten at Bobby’s. Kimball reacted, “She’s so little she can’t walk.”

I thought maybe Jack would resent having a strange cat in the house. No, he was afraid of the tiny kitten. At first I called her Little Bitty Kitty, Then in a couple of weeks it was Little Bitty Demon. She would attack anything or anybody.

Kimball named her Diane. She likes to ride on my walker looking all regal so I sometimes all her Princess.

She is everybody’s kitten.  She even plays with Davis’ dog, Caddee. When Princess was smaller, Caddee would pick her up and carry her where she wanted her. They sometimes sleep together.

If Kimball is in the house and sits down somewhere, Princess is on her hap for as long as she sits. If Kimball is not home, if I’m in an easy chair Princess volunteers to hold my lap down. If I’m taking a nap, Princess and Jack will be on the bed, she snuggles and purrs. Jack just lays nearby. But at the first sound of Kimball’s car they are both off the bed and waiting at the door for the one they both adore. Well, I guess I do, too, I just don’t run to the door and swat at her feet.

-You never know how kids are going to interpret what you say.

One deer season years ago, I left Dad in the southwest stand on the timbered 40 that juts out into Carl Taylor’s ranch and I walked a half mile north to a spot deer liked to come through.  At quitting time I was walking back. I was still quite a ways from the 40 when I saw a fairly large animal walking east toward it. From maybe 175 yards away, through the scope I saw the side and hips of a bobcat just before it disappeared into the timber. When we got back to the house, I told Kimball and Adrian. maybe six years old, about it saying, “If that bobcat had three more feet, it would have been mine.”

After I left the room, Adrian asked her momma, “How many feet does a bobcat have?” KL

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