Over the weekend my family and I came into contact with a gorgeous light gray and powder white kitten I lovingly named Hazel. Along with what we presume to be an older male sibling (from a previous litter) she was wondering in our carport. This wasn’t terribly surprising; neighbors we had to put up with for over four years had finally moved away last August, except they left all of their cats behind. So the cats live in the attic of the now abandoned house and roam the neighborhood. Our former neighbors come back from time to time and leave a bag of food out. While we appreciate the gesture, this is hardly being responsible caregivers.
I know which cats are theirs; wherever Hazel and her brother came from originally are either offspring of my former neighbor cats or abandoned offspring from some other cretin that thinks the empty house is some sort of kitty dumping ground.
Hazel is a friendly kitty; purrs, loves to be held and cuddled, loves to give kisses and just a snuggler. This is the type of cat I love; Mr. Destiny, my cat of 16+ years was like this and set the standard for what I thought most cats were like. Oh, how wrong I was. Had this been three years prior when I was in the market, so to speak, to adopt and I had to pick Hazel over the two I did end up adopting? My cats wouldn’t stand a chance. They were never loving or cuddly or affectionate in any way. Any love they show now is three long years of hard work.
The cat that follows Hazel around was constantly knocking her down, pining her to the ground and making her submissive. Any time Hazel had her back to him, he was charging at her. If we took Hazel away from his line of sight, my boyfriend was able to get him to behave and even brush up against him. Once Hazel was back in his line of vision, however, he bulldozed her down. Every time Hazel gave a shriek of pain my heart cried out. I felt cruel to leave her outside but I did. Initially. Later that night, I heard her cry out and I couldn’t take it. I went out onto my stoop and called her by the name I gave her. She ZOOMED! up my stairs to the safety of my protection. The other cat won’t come near me.
I took her in for the night. I made her a makeshift litter box, fed her and gave her much needed water. She kneaded constantly and only wanted to be held and to fall asleep on my lap or next to us on the bed. I didn’t know what I was going to do with her, but by god I was not going to put her out if I could manage it.
I called around to friends first, seeing if anyone could take her in. No one could, and that was understandable. I wish we could have; if it were just Mister J and I we would have but it isn’t just us so there was no way around this fact. I called my friend Leanne, who has fostered kittens and volunteered with such organizations as the Best Friends Animal Society on numerous accounts. I needed her advice.
Hazel nearly slept the whole night through, with only intervals for 3:00am play time. She alternated between snuggling with Mister J and I, tucked next to us, trusting us to care for her. She looked like she had never had a good nights sleep in all her short little life.
The next morning Leanne returned my call. She advised me to take her to the organization I adopted my cats from. Surely the woman in charge would help me out. So on Sunday afternoon – after Mister J Hazel-sat so I could spend time with my cats so they knew their mommy hadn’t abandoned them – we packed up Hazel in Otis’s kitten carrier, gave her treats and her favorite bell and drove the half hour to the place where I adopted the Cats of Win.
A complacent kitten by nature, it was a shock when Hazel FREAKED as soon as she saw the back wall where she and her sibling cat must have come over to get to our property. Was she scared we were going to put her back on the wall and leave her? I don’t know. She did not like the cat carrier so Mister J and I took turns holding her in the car where she was content once more, happily falling asleep in our laps.
At the adoption center, Anne* looked at me helplessly; her kennels were full, there was no room. I was disheartened. She was busy with a woman and her family in the cat bonding room and told me to wait. A short while later she emerged with two cats, one in each hand, and placed them back in their cubbies. The woman who had been looking at them came out, looking as dejected as I felt. A teenage girl in her party pointed at me and Anne jumped in.
“She has a kitten to adopt!”
I immediately went into hard-sell mode. “I HAVE A KITTEN!”
The woman did not understand why I would be abandoning this kitten, but I was quick to fill her in on Hazel’s story. I took Hazel out of the carrier and as soon as the woman took her in her arms it was love purr time. Hazel snuggled with her right away, tucking her little head under the woman’s chin and kneading. Worried she would be unable to adopt Hazel unless I filled out paperwork to release her to the care of the organization, Anne just threw up her hands and said, “If it’s a good match, that’s all I care about. This just never happened.”
She then proceeded to give information on care, the best place to give Hazel her kitten shots and spayed. The woman had clearly put a lot of thought into obtaining a kitten; she earnestly wrote down everything Anne advised. I gave her the carrier, bell, kitten collar and treats I had given to Hazel. I had – and still have – a good feeling about those two. I think they’re in store for many years of happiness.
I was put in a position where I could have, like so many irresponsible humans before me, turned out my adult cats simply because they aren’t the precise personality I was hoping for in a cat. Because they’re old news, a bit troublesome and neurotic. Because a new, cuddly, snuggle bug of a kitten came into my life. Marauding little monsters though they may be, Kermit and Otis are mine. I love them very much, despite the screaming, the headaches, the chewed wires and $1600 emergency surgery bill.
Besides, who the hell else would be a sucker enough to love them as much as I do?
Have you ever rescued a cat or another animal?
