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Light shone in through the large windows, the crystal of the gold sun-catcher, throwing rainbow twirling refracted rays over the walls of the large room.

Looking out, I allowed my roving gaze to travel from the outlined mountains to the multi-coloured fields, sheep grazing happily in the heat of the un-seasonal weather. My focus finally coming to rest upon the feathered hedge, too-long grass, the tangled weed ridden undergrowth of my garden, detritus caught on several twigs. With a sigh, I turned away.

Hand reaching to switch on the kettle, I paused, something… I didn’t know what, had caught my attention. Moving swiftly to the window, eyes searching for the elusive ‘thing’. Looking down, I stared at them, unbelieving. One small, black, wet and lifeless body hanging by frail skin from the thorns of the rose bush, another tumbled on the concrete path and finally the third, no longer than my hand, lying unmoving on the darkened earth.

Wet? And then I remembered the paddling pool, the neighbourhood kids had been splashing in the day before, I looked across the hedge and saw it. Of course, the man, the neighbour he was the sort to…

Fetching the camera, I took pictures, evidence, of the small bodies as they lay or hung in their unnatural positions, as a group and then individually. That was when I saw it, the slight movement of the chest. The earth must have cushioned the thrown body… the impact enough to empty the lungs of liquid.

Towels heated by the fire and used to dry and stimulate, until finally independent movement. Placing the kitten on a towel wrapped around a hot water bottle, the call to the RSPCA was made, the result less than expected - they wouldn’t arrive until the following day. A frantic call to the local vet, willing to meet me at his surgery. Only two or three days old and their only crime - being born!

A week later I sat smiling, as slowly the week old baby consumed the nutritious milk. Amused, I wondered how a suckling kitten could make such a mewling noise? Asleep, yet the mewling continued? Crawling on hands and knees I searched… finally to discover a lone kitten beneath my desk. I knew who the mother was, but she had shown no interest, had ignored and then hissed at the orphan. An idea formed, and removing the kitten I rubbed it gently against the foundling, then returned both to the darkness beneath the desk. All was well, kitten and, numerically illiterate, mother re-united.

The neighbour received some visitors shortly thereafter, and no doubt, the Police and RSPCA had a lot to discuss with him, although no charges were filed due to lack of evidence.

I had Rosie, the Queen cat,spayed and she moved in with me. I found Boris, the under desk kitten, a loving family. And Sox? Well she is 5 years old now, and yes, she still lives with me – my baby kitten-cat.