Wish there were a picture.
 
My husband rescued a litter of kittens from a hole in a ditch bank after he'd 
seen their mother dead in the road.  They were a hissing spitting scratching 
little group, but the one we kept followed him everywhere.  Bruce would  go 
out irrigating with a shovel over one shoulder and Shorty would be walking 
along 
with him, tail straight up in the air like a beacon.
 
Nancy

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