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

Lily had slipped the smallest kitten under her sweater while the grown-ups were backing out of the barn. She'd wanted to keep just one. Now she was crying, and the kitten was crying, and across the yard the mother bobcat had started to walk.

She came slowly, on three legs, straight across the gravel toward the porch. Rusty went wild at the screen door. Walt grabbed his collar and hauled him into the hallway. "Nobody goes outside," he said. "She wants her baby," the vet said. "That's all she wants. Give it back and she'll go."

June found a shallow cardboard box and an old towel. Lily, sniffling, lifted the kitten out of her sweater and laid it on the towel herself. Walt opened the door just wide enough to set the box on the top step and closed it again. Through the glass, they watched the bobcat reach the bottom of the porch steps. Then she started to climb.