Continued from Part One
It was just a random weekday.
I doubt I had any plans for even our meals that day, let alone rescuing someone.
But that’s the thing about rescues.
They’re not really planned.
It’s just that someone needs saving and…whatdoyaknow?…you’re nearby.
Early that afternoon, our neighbor shared a photo on Facebook of the tiniest kitten that had stumbled its way onto her back porch. “Anyone know whose kitten this is?” she asked. It was starving and scared and, since she is very allergic to cats, she was hoping to find its home quickly or get it to a place where someone could care for it without sneezing all the way to their death.
Seeing that tiny little furball on my screen, I dashed out of my chair like a lunatic, thinking…
What WAS I thinking?
I don’t even know.
It was something like…
Looking back, it’s like the 6-year old girl in me took over, even though, if you had me in an interrogating room with a lie-detector test today, it would probably come out that I don’t reallllly like cats.
That 6-year old girl in me, however?
She loves them.
And so, if you’ll remember, does my 6-year old daughter.
And speaking of her, I immediately called out her name…again, I don’t know WHY…with a mixture of panic and excitement in my voice.
“Get your shoes on!!” I urged her.
“Why?” she asked.
“I just need you!!” I said. “Hurry!!!!”
Frantically throwing shoes on our feet, we dashed onto the front porch where my husband was visiting with a friend. Leaning down to where he was sitting in the rocking chair, I murmured something in his ear, explaining where we were going and why.
Do you know what I said?
I said “KITTEN!!!”
I just wanted to see it, really. To let my kitten-loving daughter see it. We’d just look at it and maybe…well, there was no maybe, because there was no PLAN. We were just going, blindingly, toward KITTEN.
My husband seemed to interpret my thoughts…he’s really good at that…and gave me to the go-ahead to see what we could do to help. At the very least, we could bring the little baby over to our non-cat-allergic house and take care of it until its owner could be found.
We were quickly met with a big problem, though.
When our neighbor went out onto the back porch with us to show us the kitten…
the kitten was no longer there.
“KITTEN!” I inwardly yelled. “Where are you??”
“I can’t believe this,” she said. “It’s been meowing back here since 6:00 this morning! I mean, it was just here! But it was extremely skittish, it might be hiding somewhere…”
We started snooping around the porch and backyard, but to no avail.
“Kitten” was GONE.
My girl and I shrugged in disappointment and had just picked up the turtle we found on our way over to head back home (did I forget to mention a turtle? We also brought home a turtle that day…) when our neighbor, miracle of miracles, spotted a flash of fur in one of their ricks of wood.
Putting the turtle back down, the three of us surrounded the wood pile, trying to coax the kitten to come out.
And our brave friend was just sticking her hand into the wood pile to snatch it when her husband yelled at us from the garage across the yard, “Hey!!! The cat’s over here!!!”
We all slowly looked at each other with wide eyes.
We STILL don’t know what sort of animal she was about to drag out of the woodpile, but we don’t really care to know!
Leaving that mystery critter behind, we high-tailed it to the garage only to discover that the kitten was…oh the drama and excitement!!…in the hood of their car!!
Now we were in a real predicament.
I had to call in the troops.
I waved down my husband and his friend, and soon, our entire family was over there. Have you ever been surrounded by five adults and four children who are about to save a kitten? It is VERY exciting. And also very loud, what with all the ideas and opinions about how to save the kitten and “can we keep the kitten??” and so on and so forth.
Carefully, so as not to frighten the skittish kitten away, the menfolk opened the hood of the SUV, and there she was. The most frightened little kitten you ever did see.
SO frightened, in fact, that when my husband tried to slowly reach for her, she lunged deeper into the engine.
But quick as a whip, our visiting friend caught her by one paw.
The surrounding congregation broke out into cheers! We had a foot!
He dragged her gently out, and soon she was clawing onto his hand like…
well, like a scaredy-cat.
The rest, my friends, is a TOTAL blur.
I don’t know how…
I don’t know when…
I don’t know WHY…
I don’t know what was said and who agreed to what…
but by nightfall…
this was pretty much OUR cat.
Well, HER cat.
Said cat lives in our house now.
Her name is Chloe.
And she has a giant litter box in our tiny laundry room.
And a special, magical trashcan for cat poo.
And toys and jingly balls and tiny stuffed animals and all KINDS of stuff that I never really planned on having in my house.
But our kids are obsessed with her. And she’s insanely weird and hilarious. And, somehow, even though she drives me mad when I’m trying to clean the house, she reminds me of this beautiful picture of being helpless and marching hopelessly toward death and having someone big and kind and powerful reach down and pluck you up and give you a home where you are safe and loved. It’s kind of really, really beautiful to behold.
she’s not a dog.
So that’s really, really good.