A few weeks ago, a couple of my friends drop me a message, saying they needed a Mom's Night Out. Of course I am always up for this, and eagerly awaited our night out at a nice, no-kids-menu restaurant.
Dinner was yummy and I got to hold my friend's little four month old, who was more yummy than the food! We chatted, talked about vacations and kids and clothes, smelled on the yummy baby and downed a couple a drinks. After a few hours, my friends headed home to put their kids to bed (or, run errands in peace and quiet!) and I popped into a local drugstore to use the restroom before heading home.
When I stepped outside I heard a very faint, very quiet "meow." I don't hear cats very often; we live in the middle of suburbia and stray/outside cats aren't the norm. This also didn't sound like an adult cat; it sounded like a kitten. Curious, I wandered over to the bushes and this little furball stepped out.
Blinking the harsh lights, he looked at me before meowing and wandering off to the bushes near the drive through. It was clear the kitten was only 2-3 months old; old enough to be away from mama cat but certainly not old enough to survive on her own. Crouching down, I called to the kitten and, after a few moments, she wandered over and let me pick her up.
I completely expected a struggle but the kitten turned into a pile of kitten-mush and began purring. I took one look at the sweetie and knew I couldn't leave her there. I was right off a busy street and she could easily be hit. I stuck my head into the drugstore to ask the cashier if he knew about the kitten. He freaked out and said no, telling me to leave the kitten where I found it.
Slipping into my car, I turned it on and called my husband. I expected the kitten to freak out but she didn't. She sniffed the air and then settled into my lap, purring.
I told Adam what happened and that I wanted to bring the kitten home for the evening until I could see if she was microchipped. He said no, no way, absolutely not. Fine, I said. Who do I call?
"George's godparents," he said, in his "duh" voice!
Of course! They have a cat and had rescued kittens in the past. They would be able to feed and hold the kitten until we found her owners or a family.
It was nine o'clock at night when I called my friends. My first words were, "So, I found this kitten and I have no idea what to do . . ." and she said, "Bring him here, of course!"
I drove to my friends with this little kitten in my lap. I was so veeeeery careful but the little guy cuddled in my lap, purring the whole time. As I pulled into the driveway, she threw a paw over my arm, nuzzled into my elbow and drifted off to sleep. Oh, baby kitty....
My friends took the kitten, who immediately transferred her affections onto them. She was kitten-mush in their hands, purring and cuddling. My friend labeled her as a possible maine coone and we checked to see if it was a boy or girl. (We thought boy but the vet the next day confirmed GIRL, which is why I call her a "she" in this post. Yes, my husband is still harassing me about not knowing the difference!) They agreed to keep her until the owners came forward or we found her a new home.
The next 24 hours were spent seeing if the kitten was micrchipped (no), healthy (so far, so good!), putting up ads to find her owners (not yet) and setting up appointments for kitten shots and spaying. After considering several people, my friends finally decided to keep her! She has a new home, a new name and is being spoiled rotten. I am the Offical Unoffical Cat Fairy Godmother and am thrilled that, even though we couldn't keep her, she is with some of the people I trust most in this world. I get to see the kitten when I visit and spoil her rotten.
What does my cat-allergic, cat-hating husband think of all this? That I'm nuts, but he knew that. However, since he once brought home a dog... when I was ten THOUSAND weeks pregnant with Cole... yeah, he can't say much!