We were meant to visit over the weekend. Big skies, old barns, and the rare goat with inquiries made time slow on my aunt’s farm. I expected the kids to run, collect eggs, and possibly love a chicken.
This surprised me.
After breakfast, Maeve entered the yard with a little black-and-white kitten like a jewel. Little hands shook, but smile was steadfast.
He was crying beside the shed, she said softly. “I picked him up.”
I initially thought it was a farm cat that got away from the litter. But then I saw.
