So the night draws to a close, most of the Kommittee in their bedroom with the door closed. Misty is out roaming the house with her mom, Echo. I often wonder if they remember they are mother and daughter. The worst part (yes, even worse than the fleas) of this entire mission was when I brought the kittens home from the feedmill, hence separating the mothers from their kittens. I knew the socializing window was closing, the older they got, and if I didn’t take them soon they would likely be wild for life, and chances of finding homes would diminish. Sometimes doing the right thing doesn’t feel all that good. I like to believe they understood, on some level, that this was all going to be okay. And no one is happier than me that Echo and Misty have reunited. These two were the closest of all 12 living at the feedmill last summer. And right now, they’re fighting under the bed. How I wish I could spend a day as a cat.