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

The bobcat was standing in the gap of the barn door. She held her left front paw off the ground, and in the grey light she looked smaller than she had in the hayloft. Thin. Her ribs showed under the spotted coat, and the first flakes of snow were settling on her back. But she wasn't looking at the woods, or at the fields, or for a way out.

She was looking at the house. "Why is she watching us?" June whispered. Walt felt something cold move in his stomach. He turned around. Lily was standing very still by the kitchen table, both arms folded tightly over the front of her yellow sweater.

"Lily," he said gently. "How many kittens did you find?" His granddaughter's lip trembled. "Five," she whispered. And from under her sweater came a thin, angry little mew.