xt7jh98zct60_10 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7jh98zct60/data/mets.xml https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7jh98zct60/data/2015ms086.dao.xml Bevins, Martha 0.05 Cubic Feet 55 items archival material 2015ms086 English University of Kentucky The physical rights to the materials in this collection are held by the University of Kentucky Special Collections Research Center.  Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Martha Bevins letters to Tom McCarthy Radio broadcasting. Agriculture -- Kentucky. Birds Women air pilots. 1956 October 11 text 1956 October 11 2016 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7jh98zct60/data/2015ms086/Box_ms_42/Folder_1/Item_10/1956_10_11_Bevins_Abandoned_Kittens_p1.pdf 1956 October 11 1956 1956 October 11 section false xt7jh98zct60_10 xt7jh98zct60 l
- Morning View Kentudiy
11 October 1956
Hello Mr, McCarthy,
Long before daylight recently, it was apparent that Nature was
’ planning a particularly perfect day, surpassing even the glorious
ones we had already enJOyed.
The shy had been polished by great puffs of wind, and the sharp
chill of the night promised that trees which had been a tired
green at sunset would glow crimson and gold at sunrise. During
the midnight hours, a sudden outburst of small, sweet bird—talk
high in the dark trees indicated the arrival of a migrating
flock of warblers to be enjoyed on the morrow.
As the first sunrise colors snoldered with unusual richness on
the eastern horizon, and the sky overhead was yet a deep grey
between the black tree tops, I saw for a moment, the slow dignified
flap of great wings disappearing toward the still-obscured pond,
and knew daylight would reveal the Great Blue Heron stalking
its shallows or standing, sound asleep, on the dam. It was going
to be a good day.
Whereupon the human element moved into the picture, and no hurtling
, brick ever more completely shattered a plate glass window than
did one man Splinter the beauty of that day.
The dogs and I Saw a car pull to the side of the road at the
far corner of the tree patch. I wondered idly if it had trouble
and the driver would Want to use the phone. Then, with indignation,
I saw he Was tossing something out upon the ground near the
fence. Assuming he was disposing of rubbish or garbage, as
happens all too frequently here, I made a note of his license
number when he caught sight of us and hastily drove away.
Returning the dogs to the house, I walked down to clean up the
mess before they should become involved in it. I was angry
and resolved as I walked to take whatever legal steps I could
to punish the culprit.
But it Wasn't rubbish this time. Huddled amid the bittersweet
stems at the fence were three tiny kittens. *heir eyes were open
and they were agile enough, but far to young to fend for themselves,
or to find their way to the nearest house for help.
Tossing very young animals out upon the roadside is a cruel,
lazy, cowardly way to get rid of them. If the owner cannot find
himself capable of disposing of them, or get a friend to do it,
the least he can do is turn them over to the SPCA for a humane
death.

 l w’ ’3”
. “2.,"

I had not previously noticed this particular car, but have watched
it since, and cannot but assume, from the hours at which it passes
daily, that the man works in town as do so many residents of this
area. All the roads converging on town pass within a few miles
of the SPCA, and it is actually situated on one of them. While
it is not Open so early in the morning, certainly it would have
been little trouble to leaVe the kittens on the porch in a
box, with an explanatory note.
What I found most shocking Was, why, of all the long miles
between here and town, did the man choose to fling the little
cats out at this Spot. What inherent viciousness, what amazing
depth of utter cruelity prompted him to toss them practically
into the jaws of my big dogs? it is impossible that he passes
here daily without knowing that the high-fenced tree patch is
their domain. Inevitably, if I had not accidentally seen the
pathetic kittens abandoned, they would have fallen prey to the
dogs.
The day was as beautiful as it had promised -- new color on
the trees below a sky whose blue rivalled the richness of that
above the High Sierra in winter time, a delightfully busy flock
of Myrtle Warblers added to those already flickering through the
big trees, and the Great Blue Heron fascinating to Watch at the
pond.

' But over it all hung a greyness, and ugliness, because I could
not forget that this same blue sky was smiling down upon a man
so devoid of kindness that he would deliberately place helpless
kittens where they were almost certain to die horribly.

I can only hope that the cry of little cats is woven like an
endless thread through his dreams each night .
’ Sincerely,
[fl .—

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