Editor's Notebook

The Blauvelts lost a friend we called Blackie between 3 and 5 Sunday afternoon.

Blackie was a member of a spring litter of kittens delivered by the mother cat who claims our neighborhood. I'm not sure where her father, Mr. Gray, calls home, but he is a regular visitor and apparently a good friend of Mrs. Cat and her youngsters.

Earlier this year, Mrs. Cat got shut in our garage overnight and the kittens apparently had a scary time being alone. About noon the next day Blackie was found high in a tree calling for help. His mother made several trips up the tree in what was finally a successful effort to coax her down. Since learning how to climb, Blackie has frequently taken refuge in our big Elm trees.

When we came home from church Sunday noon, Blackie called to me from her perch in the tree. As I was leaving the house about 3 Sunday afternoon, Blackie scampered down from the tree and came running to see me.

But about 6 p.m. when Rita returned from the Nuckolls County Fair, she found a deceased Blackie laying in the yard near the cat house. The flys had already found her.

Later that evening, I got a shovel and buried Blackie near the cathouse in which she spent her first days on this planet. Mother Cat and Blackie's three surviving were among the mourners who gathered around.

We looked for signs of trauma and may have found a small spot of blood on her front leg.

Earlier in the week, I returned home to find a very distraught Kitten Gray. A lonesome kitty, she appeared to be crying at the top of her voice. Seeing me she became glued to my side but that didn't stop her crying for her playmates.

Mrs. Cat and the other kittens were obviously missing. Rita got on her bicycle and set out on a cat search. About two blocks away, she spotted Mrs. Cat and the three missing youngsters charging toward her at top speed. It was a happy reunion.

And my was Kitten Gray happy to see her family returning.

Now it is time to find forever homes for the three remaining kittens. In recent weeks, they have been learning valuable lessons about life.

Mrs. Cat hates rain and wet feet and she has passed the dislike to her youngsters. Sunday morning, before the rain shower, the family was waiting for breakfast. When it started to rain the kittens made a mad dash for shelter in the drain pipe that carries water from our home's gutter to the street. As the rain intensified, I stood at the door watching. It wasn't long before the bewildered kittens popped out of the drain and ran for a more suitable shelter while trying to shake the water from their fur coats.