Grandpa Finds Kittens in His Barn – Then the Vet Looks Up at the Hayloft and Turns Pale

Lily found them behind the hay bales on a cold Saturday at the end of October. Walt Brennan heard her squeal from the far side of the barn and came as fast as his knees allowed. "Grandpa, look! Kittens!"

There were five of them, curled together in a hollow between the bales, mewing in thin, cross little voices. Walt knelt in the hay and lifted one. It was heavier than a kitten had any right to be. Its paws were the size of quarters, its tail was a short, black-tipped stub, and on the tips of its ears stood two small black tufts.

"Can we keep them?" Lily whispered. "Their mama must be around somewhere," Walt said, turning the kitten in his big hands. It hissed at him, and he laughed. Neither of them looked up at the top of the stack behind them, where a pair of yellow eyes had just opened…