A chilling thought occurred to me: my beloved kitten, Bathsheba Everdene, by all rights should be living life as a stray under the porch of The Mark Twain House & Museum.
This incredibly beautiful, unspeakably affectionate, shockingly intelligent creature could very easily have lived her life without having any of those traits recognized.
But here’s what happened instead. My colleagues Bridget and Grace conspired to rescue Bathsheba’s mother, to take her to the vet, who confirmed that the young Bambi was in fact pregnant. They swapped cats, made elaborate arrangements, and spent lots of time, energy, care, and money to oversee the birth of Bambi’s four offspring and to raise those little kittens, teaching them how to use the litter box and otherwise behave like civilized creatures. And by some stroke of fate, blessing, and good luck, one of them came to live with me.
Bathsheba (whose original name, when it was thought that she was a male, was Jack White) has been a source of joy, comfort, laughter, and calm during these trying months. I am so very grateful for her presence, company, entertainment, and affection.
I am also so very grateful to Bridget and Grace. They did a really good thing in this world. They didn’t get on social media and brag about it. They didn’t draw attention to themselves or their good deeds; they just did what they knew in their hearts was good and right.
The world needs many, many more people like Bridget and Grace. And lots fewer people who talk loud but do little.