Then, if ever, come perfect days …”

So wrote James Russell Lowell, in his long poem “The Vision of Sir Launfal,” which I’m guessing you haven’t read in its entirety. For some reason, “What is so rare as a day in June?” is the only really memorable line out of the whole thing. Still, people have been quoting it since 1818, and that’s going some.

In last week’s column I mentioned that I’d learned that northern short-tailed shrews, Blarina brevicauda — your garden is probably rife with them, even if you haven’t seen any — are truly the gardener’s friend. Unlike groundhogs, I wrote, they do no damage to your plants, except, like their cousins the moles, by burrowing underground and then popping up in your flowerbed or vegetable patch. No, they devour insect pests, slugs and snails, along with worms, salamanders, small snakes, songbirds, mice, voles, other shrews and carrion, but not the plants you cultivate. That’s what I said.

Unfortunately, gardeners I know beg to differ. The northern shrew, they say, is not their friend.

While rodents, groundhogs, deer and, in some locations, rabbits may cause more problems, shrews do eat garden plants, they maintain.

“They just mowed down my lettuce,” one gardener insisted.

I am telling you this only because I am sick and tired these days of misinformation, including disinformation, conspiracy theories and alternative facts of every kind, and I do not want to be guilty of disseminating falsehoods. I will not be a party to it. You’ll just have to decide for yourself about Blarina brevicauda.

Not that there is much you can do about shrews.

While many local residents are staying home and tending their own gardens now — because, in the Adirondacks, now, if ever, come perfect days — no need to be running off to Florida or Myrtle Beach — our seasonal visitors and summer people have begun converging on the area. I was waiting in line at a shop in Keene Valley when an elderly gentleman who was ahead of me in the queue struck up a conversation.

Now, see, I referred to him as an elderly gentleman, when in fact he could have been 10 years older or younger than I am, and I don’t consider myself to be an elderly lady. I am, though. He was buying two little sweaters for Patches, his cat.

Patches is a calico. This man and his wife, who died two years ago, named the calico Patches because she has a patch at each elbow, as was the style for English jackets and sweaters at one time.

Patches is 16 years old now and scares him because at times she will not eat at all. She is thin and sleeps through her usual mealtimes. Patches does not cry or complain of hunger, although she can be a talkative cat; she was taught by Princess, the Siamese he and his wife once owned. Princess was talkative, in the way of Siamese cats. Now that the Siamese is gone, Patches is the princess, and she knows it.

But Patches is frail. Because she is so thin, he will offer her a little light cream, which she sometimes likes. He also offers her the milk left in the bowl when he is finished with his cornflakes, which she may sample and she may not.

He also has a rescue cat, a 6-year-old Maine coon male, whose name I forget. The coon doesn’t mind the cold of winter and can put up with snow, as long as it is not too deep. He likes to go outside in most weather, outfitted with a sort of harness or vest attached to a leash. The coon has a good memory. For example, two weeks ago they passed a house under construction in the neighborhood, where the silhouette of a cat appeared in shadow. Both the man and his cat noticed. Ever since, the cat has wanted to return to this construction site, and they would have gone today, except for the rain, which was too heavy.

The Maine coon likes cold water to drink, while Patches prefers ice water. He and his wife discovered this preference when Patches tried to lick the ice cubes in their own water glasses.

Well, good-bye, I said, as he left with his purchase.

Good-bye, he said, have a good weekend with your cat. I could tell that he meant it kindly.

Have a good week.

(Martha Allen, of Keene Valley, has been writing for the News since 1996.)