My family once had two white cats. They chased after each other through the house, sliding on the wooden floors, banging into doors and continue on.
One day, with the two children in the car, we went to the country to see the trees in their Autumn colours. One of the children called from the back seat that a kitten was there in the trees. We stopped the car. It was a blue-eyed white kitten, infested with fleas, worms, with eye and ear infections. A kitten, probably 2 or 3 weeks old. We brought her to the vet, got her shots, prescriptions and so on. We got her clean and healthy again. On her next visit to the vet, he told us that she was blind and deaf.
Now we had three white cats running through the house, and two kids running after the cats through the house. Those were the days, long ago now.
The following poem has nothing to do with my story. When I wrote the poem for the prompt I thought back to the time when we found our little white cat.
Characteristically, she offers
caring to the blue-eyed stray kitten
fashioning space in her backpack
hiking down the mountain trail
soft purring lifts her step
mother and kittens
ahead on trail