SEVEN YEARS IN LOGGED MEMORIES (continued)

I'd put her out on the porch and she'd work hours in trying to get back inside the house, which was essentially a log fortress. Then she found a way! A week later, no sleep for the weary, I heard scratching during the night. She had found a soft piece of flooring that was damaged from a fire long ago, and she started to dig her way back in the house next to the hearth of the great fireplace in this loghouse. A wide-plank poplar floor was no obstacle to her -- she wanted in.

I minced no words about the damage. My husband saw this as so funny, once he repaired the floor since we didn't want snakes inside. Then he won a local storytelling "liars" contest by telling the truth about this kitten's efforts to get back inside. This kitten was all hair, and the size of two fists put together. So seeing her only had the fellas reeling in laughter at tales of her resolve.

I relented and agreed to let her back in since she was so tiny, and all the other cats and critters around were so huge compared to her. Maybe it was me hearing the great-horned owl that cinched it in her getting back inside. I wasn't hard-hearted, just weary with all I had to do and a new baby in this kitten at the time.

She became my sweet Housekitty. Love is often remembered in brief but marked glimpses. And I have never failed to miss her after all these years ... or the laughing storyteller.

(c) 2003 Ali Cecilie Sonder aka Rennie Lorca