Dorothy Darrell Ripper D and Oliver O Honey

My husband and I have been blessed with good kids. Our girls have done great in school, and they were involved in sports. We have never had to worry about smoking, alcohol, or drugs. However, when they got their driver's licenses, we still worried like all parents do. Along with the obvious worries, our daughters added a little additional stress. If they see an abandoned cat, they pull off the edge of the highway and chase it.

My oldest daughter passed by a litter of kittens on a curvy hill. She stopped at the gas station to text me, asking my permission to go back and pick up the litter. I lost it, picturing my girl parked on a hill, running around in the road trying to catch a litter of kittens. I told her no, she could be hit in the truck or while out chasing kittens. I worried she would turn around for the kittens, and I didn't stop worrying until she pulled into the driveway.

A couple of years ago, when my middle daughter was in band, my oldest went to pick her up from practice. It was taking longer than usual for them to get home. I figured they stopped at the gas station for fountain drinks, no big deal. Then we got a text in the family group chat.

The girls saw two kittens on the edge of the road eating a flattened, dried-out bird. They parked at the elementary school and chased the kittens through a soybean field. The black kitten got away. They managed to catch the gray and white kitten. It was spicy but calmed down the next day. The girls named her Dorothy.

Dorothy had everyone in the house wrapped around her cute little toebean.

I made a vet appointment for spaying, vaccines, and parasite treatment. I told the girls they had to pay half the vet bill, and I would pay half. It sounds fair to me since they didn't ask Dad and me before bringing Dorothy home.

So we dropped Dorothy off at the vet to be spayed. Later that afternoon, we picked up Darrell and paid for a neuter. Dorothy turned out to be a Darrell! I'm okay with that, neuters are cheaper anyway.

The girls named him Darrell, but it just wasn't right. I started calling him Rip. Now it's Ripper DD, Ripper Dorothy Darrell.

My oldest daughter and her husband eloped in July, but she wanted a big fall wedding here on the farm. So we made it happen in October. Our farm was lit up in fairy lights. We had hay bales for seating. We decorated with mums, pumpkins, and leaves. My husband and I rushed around like heads with their chickens cut off, trying to get everything ready for guests and get ourselves ready. The girls had to run to the store for hairspray.

I was getting ready to step in the shower when someone started knocking on the bedroom door. It sounded urgent. I threw my clothes back on and opened the door to see a tiny, fluffy yellow kitten wrapped in a blanket.

The girls spotted the kitten on their way to the store, parked on the edge of the road, and chased it through a hayfield. They named him Oliver, but now they think it's a girl. So they changed it to Honey. I call her O Honey, but that might change after the vet appointment next week.