We moved from our apartment of 14 years to a small house in a quiet residential area of a small northern Illinois town last March. Life's good here. I enjoy having a back yard instead of the roof of the building next to me outside the back windows. We have two cats ourselves, so one of the first things we noticed was the three or four stray cats that wandered our terrain. One stood out in particular, a small calico semi-longhair who couldn't walk straight. It was apparent she was a cripple of some kind...results of a birth defect, an unfortunate encounter with a car, or maybe the neighborhood brat who may grow up to be a serial killer or worse...she fell over whenever she tried to move fast, wobbled when at a steady pace, and when sitting still, displayed an obvious tremor Soon enough we were putting food out for her, leftovers that our spoiled darlings rejected. She scarfed it up, then always, immediately, disappeared down the alleyway. About six weeks after we started feeding her, one day she showed up with three of the most darling, adorable...any kind of adjective that fits small kittens...kittens. Now we knew where she went after filling her belly. The kittens are almost as big as their mother now. She herds them in when we put out food, but lately there's usually one missing. I keep hoping somebody will scoop them up as pets, but I don't really think that will happen sad...