Lily Potter Dean

My soft-hearted daughter found a tiny, tiny kitten a few days ago.  She (Hannah says she looked up in Google how to sex a kitten) has to be fed with an eye-dropper every four hours.  So far so good, even with the three older "siblings": Klunk, Lemon, and Rasputin.  As of yesterday, Tiny One had begun to realize she has back legs.  Handy, as Raz is apparently anxious to play with her and, with the playful swats to get things started, he knocks her right over.

Hannah showed me a photo (well, lots of photos, actually) --- she's a tortoise-shell whose face is cut precisely in half, forehead to chin, between black and tortie.  She also has four perfectly-halved feet: two cream socks and two black.  With whom she will ultimately live is up in the air.  Hannah and Will will get attached.  I'd be glad to take her on.  Briton has been thinking about getting another cat.

All of this --- the tiny little baby, the tiny little baby being a tortie ---put me in mind of our dear Lily.  She fit into the palm of my hand when we got her (from a secretary where I was teaching whose barn cat had a litter), and she grew to be rather the queen around here.  She was the only of our cats who was belled, and hearing that sound still makes me look for her. She was a gem.