The room is peaceful and softly lit. Standing out from the shadows are only the eyes of the grandmother who patiently knits and those of her granddaughter, lying on the floor and drawing. In the background there is an insistent mewing: the family cat is no longer alone, but surrounded by at least four kittens. For the grandmother this will be the fiftieth time, for the little girl the first: choosing the liveliest kitten, or maybe the softest, and leaving it with its mother while stuffing the others in a sack. And then the ritual trip to the river, through the fog. The adieu is a sad one but apparently unavoidable.
