Rescued a cat tonight.
May. 24th, 2012 04:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
icarusAnd -- rescued a cat tonight.
I was about to leave work. As I shut my door, I heard a meow.
Meow?
I looked back to see if was just the car door squeaking, and there was the source on the edge of the parking lot. He had hoarse voice, like he'd over-meowed.
A few minutes later, my ex-boyfriend (the local Chinese one, S.) stopped by to see if I cared to have a bite, and found me petting the cute kitten -- well, teenage cat, maybe about four or five months old. A fine-lined tabby with white paws and long, thin legs, a tail in extra-long.
"Why am I not surprised?" S. said, which is rich, because he's just as much of a cat person as I am, and that's saying something.
We were about to head out: "The tapas place? You know, I was thinking of stopping by but figured you'd be at a dance class or something--" (I got S. into ballroom dancing) -- when kitty very deliberately blocked the car from leaving.
Kitty meowed urgently. Something was wrong.
"Maybe he's lost?" He looked very young. We speculated, and then S. thought maybe if we brought him over to where the townhouses were, we'd see if he made his way towards one. It was probably a mistake to take him around the block by car, but S. had left the engine running, it had rained, and it was rather wet.
I didn't think it would work. But I humored S. because I knew who was going to be housing this cat if we didn't find his home.
Kitty started going up one sidewalk to a door. Then he looked confused. He trotted down that sidewalk and went up to the next door, but no, not it. He did the next one. He walked on the sidewalk, not the grass. This was an indoor kitty.
"He doesn't know where he lives," I told S.
We took kitty to S's house, naturally, because one, he doesn't have four other cats, and two, he lived next door (which is why he'll stop by after I get off work). He loves cats. His grandmother doesn't (it's his house, willed to him by his mother, but his grandmother's lived there for twenty years; it's Chinese thing).
Tucked in the downstairs bathroom at S's place, we discovered that kitty was a she, and she, though young, was a nursing mother. Gosh, we hoped that whoever lost their cat knew that kittens could be weaned onto wet food as early as three or four weeks. S. went out to get cat food and supplies for a litter box, while I discovered what a sweet, gentle cat this was as she melted in my hands.
S. arrived with the food, and that's when we discovered how lost this cat had been. She tried to eat the kitty litter, she was so hungry. In slow spoonfuls (I didn't want her to get sick) she voraciously devoured six mini cans of cat food. A week, at least, without food? I worried about her kittens. I didn't want to say anything, but it looked like she'd nursed kittens more recently than a week. The telling moment came when, sated at last, rested, comforted and warm, she tried the door.
I know that meow. It's the same one cats use when there's a bird just out of reach. It's also the same one they use when their kittens are in danger. Those kittens are still out there. My mind formed a picture of some reckless asshole dumping a cat and her kittens in the woods because he (or she) didn't want to deal with a litter.
I knew it was hopeless, but I got a flashlight and tried to hunt through the area where we found her. Too dark, too steep, and my slippery work shoes were no help. A neighbor (walking his dog at midnight) offered a harness and leash, suggesting that we put her on one and have her lead us to them. The harness was too big, but he was a nice guy, wants to know what happens.
In the morning, I'm bringing over a cat carrier to take her to the vet, check for a microchip. (S. works from home tomorrow, waiting for the plumber.) We'll see if we can get a harness. Can only pray the kittens make it through the night, and that we can find them in the daylight.
Or pray that I'm wrong, and she just doesn't like being kept in a room. S., for his own peace of mind I think, has decided on that interpretation.
ETA: Breaking news. All the kittens are safe and sound -- because she's not a nursing mother. She's pregnant.
I was about to leave work. As I shut my door, I heard a meow.
Meow?
I looked back to see if was just the car door squeaking, and there was the source on the edge of the parking lot. He had hoarse voice, like he'd over-meowed.
A few minutes later, my ex-boyfriend (the local Chinese one, S.) stopped by to see if I cared to have a bite, and found me petting the cute kitten -- well, teenage cat, maybe about four or five months old. A fine-lined tabby with white paws and long, thin legs, a tail in extra-long.
"Why am I not surprised?" S. said, which is rich, because he's just as much of a cat person as I am, and that's saying something.
We were about to head out: "The tapas place? You know, I was thinking of stopping by but figured you'd be at a dance class or something--" (I got S. into ballroom dancing) -- when kitty very deliberately blocked the car from leaving.
Kitty meowed urgently. Something was wrong.
"Maybe he's lost?" He looked very young. We speculated, and then S. thought maybe if we brought him over to where the townhouses were, we'd see if he made his way towards one. It was probably a mistake to take him around the block by car, but S. had left the engine running, it had rained, and it was rather wet.
I didn't think it would work. But I humored S. because I knew who was going to be housing this cat if we didn't find his home.
Kitty started going up one sidewalk to a door. Then he looked confused. He trotted down that sidewalk and went up to the next door, but no, not it. He did the next one. He walked on the sidewalk, not the grass. This was an indoor kitty.
"He doesn't know where he lives," I told S.
We took kitty to S's house, naturally, because one, he doesn't have four other cats, and two, he lived next door (which is why he'll stop by after I get off work). He loves cats. His grandmother doesn't (it's his house, willed to him by his mother, but his grandmother's lived there for twenty years; it's Chinese thing).
Tucked in the downstairs bathroom at S's place, we discovered that kitty was a she, and she, though young, was a nursing mother. Gosh, we hoped that whoever lost their cat knew that kittens could be weaned onto wet food as early as three or four weeks. S. went out to get cat food and supplies for a litter box, while I discovered what a sweet, gentle cat this was as she melted in my hands.
S. arrived with the food, and that's when we discovered how lost this cat had been. She tried to eat the kitty litter, she was so hungry. In slow spoonfuls (I didn't want her to get sick) she voraciously devoured six mini cans of cat food. A week, at least, without food? I worried about her kittens. I didn't want to say anything, but it looked like she'd nursed kittens more recently than a week. The telling moment came when, sated at last, rested, comforted and warm, she tried the door.
I know that meow. It's the same one cats use when there's a bird just out of reach. It's also the same one they use when their kittens are in danger. Those kittens are still out there. My mind formed a picture of some reckless asshole dumping a cat and her kittens in the woods because he (or she) didn't want to deal with a litter.
I knew it was hopeless, but I got a flashlight and tried to hunt through the area where we found her. Too dark, too steep, and my slippery work shoes were no help. A neighbor (walking his dog at midnight) offered a harness and leash, suggesting that we put her on one and have her lead us to them. The harness was too big, but he was a nice guy, wants to know what happens.
In the morning, I'm bringing over a cat carrier to take her to the vet, check for a microchip. (S. works from home tomorrow, waiting for the plumber.) We'll see if we can get a harness. Can only pray the kittens make it through the night, and that we can find them in the daylight.
Or pray that I'm wrong, and she just doesn't like being kept in a room. S., for his own peace of mind I think, has decided on that interpretation.
ETA: Breaking news. All the kittens are safe and sound -- because she's not a nursing mother. She's pregnant.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-24 02:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-25 04:24 am (UTC)She's not a nursing mother.
She's pregnant.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-25 03:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-25 05:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-25 07:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-26 11:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-27 01:17 am (UTC)