Tuesday, January 4, 2011


I would like to show you a bit of what I did over the holidays.

This is a kitten that ended up in the wrong place. She ended up in someone’s barn, and they were ready to blast her with a shotgun. I spent two hours chasing that cat through the barn trying to catch her. Saved at last, and not for the last time.

Because once they had her she could easily be dumped out in the snow somewhere. And that just didn’t sound like the proper thing to be doing. So, I took her up, tucked her into my jacket, and took her off to the clinic. I had to find a place for her, but first things first.

I had to keep her in my car overnight before the clinic would take her. By then, I had already found a no-kill shelter to take her in. I could have boarded her at the clinic, but I felt she would benefit from being touched by human hands a bit before going out to be adopted.

She had been living in a barn for about two or three months. She kept to herself, and hid from people. When I was trying to catch her, she never clawed or bit at me even once. I knew that this was no wild cat, but someone’s pet who had gotten lost somehow.

She was evasive for the first day and a half after I caught her, and would curl up to hide whenever someone would come around. I would stuff her inside my coat and unzip it to where she could look out. She liked that. After I got a bit of food in her, she warmed right up.

The girls at the clinic were all excited about her. She was such a friendly little kitty, even right after her surgery. She would rub up against the bars of her cage whenever they got anywhere close to her. The name on the chart said, “Barn Cat,” and it said she was wild; but everyone could see that this was no wild cat.

I had her spayed and treated for ear mites, and she was good to go.

I took her to the shelter the next day, and she seemed to settle in well. The next day, she was throwing up a bit, but there was no inflammation around the stitches, and she was in good spirits. The poor thing was starving, and wasn’t used to having food around to eat. I thought she might eat herself sick, and I had metered the food out a bit to help her keep it down. But when she could have all she wanted, she couldn’t get enough.

I would go up once or twice a day to spend some time with her; out of the cage and stuffed into the coat, where I would walk her around a bit and pet her. I had to keep moving every so often, or she would get a bit jumpy. When the starter went out on my car, I walked up to see her.

I got to know a few of the other kitties up there, and stop to say ‘hello’ to them. There are two kittens that are a pair. The one has visions problems, is blind in one eye, and his sister doesn’t want to let him out of her sight. Her brother had to go to the clinic this weekend because he had a cold, so she needed a bit of extra attention. There is another one, a mama kitty whose kittens had all been adopted out, and she’s sort of going through an empty-nester phase. Friendly little thing.

At any rate, when I went up yesterday to visit her, she wasn’t in her cage. I was concerned maybe that she was throwing up again or something. But when I asked about her, a call was made, and I was told that she had been adopted out that day.

A young couple was walking through there looking at the kitties, and this one came up and started rubbing up against her cage. When they opened it up, she meowed at them and stepped right into her hands, and it was a done deal. “It was a good mesh,” I was told.

I’m happy for them. I’m happy for the little calico that found a family to love her, and I’m happy for the family that just expanded. But I can’t help but think about the little boy or girl that lost their kitten before I found her. I wish I could go back to tell them that she is going to be ok.

Now, I was thinking about this anyway, due to a post that Lindsay had up, or the comments there that came up; but although you hear people complaining about the commercialization of Christmas every year, it’s really this aspect of it that removes it from being solely in the hands of the Puritans set apart from everyone else. As the saying goes, it’s not a bug, but a feature. This is what gives non-Christians the toe in the door to come in and enjoy the celebration as well.

And this year, it gave that little calico a chance to share in the celebration of redemption.

And the family that she went to, and the little boy or girl that lost their kitten a few months back.

Happy holidays!


lindsaylobe said...

A nice story of a kitten that ended up in the wrong place but fortunately in the right caring human hands to ensure a successful adoption.

“Barn Cat,” makes for a good story that reminds us as part of the Christmas spirit there is the opportunity to celebrate new birth and a new life for all life by engaging in random acts of kindness.

Best wishes

Mercutio said...

That's it in a nutshell, and very well put. The poor thing was simply in the wrong place.

As for the farmer, he has had an infestation of gophers for the past two years, and I believe he saw the barn cat as essentially the same.
But one lone kitten is not an infestation.
And it's a different class of animal.

Sometimes, things happen like that, and it tells me that I'm in the right place for where I need to be.