An unexpected addition to the family.

Walking out to my truck after leaving the store on Saturday afternoon I heard the one sound that can rip straight to my heart and flood my eyes with tears in 2.2 seconds ... a lost kitten meowing. Our store is in the middle of town and the public parking area behind it is located in the middle of busy streets. The only way a kitten could have gotten back there was for someone to have set it out.

Alone. Defenseless. Starving. Scared.

Damn people and their heartlessness!!!

I tossed my stuff in the truck and started following the sound to the source. I discovered the little fur ball under the loading ramp of the store located behind ours. No way I could get to it. Chain link fencing, overgrown vines, big delivery van parked in the way. Poor thing was so frightened, wanting to come to me but terrified to do so. There we were, it meowing in distress, my stomach turning into knots. For about fifteen minutes I tried soft talking and coaxing, holding out my hand and wiggling my fingers for it to come to me. It just meowed and peaked it's little nose around the wood framing of the dock. It stayed at distance, a frustrating arms length away.

Then I remembered one of the artists that rents studio space in the basement of our store had a can of tuna! I rushed back inside, fumbling with my keys to unlock the door, ran down the stairs, found the tuna ... no can opener. Damn! I knew I had to go to the grocery store to get food for Creep anyway so I ran back out to the truck, drove as quickly as traffic and the speed limit would allow - okay, slightly faster - ran through the store, grabbed a bag of Creepy food, a bag of kitten food and a small can of soft kitten food for the lure. I elbowed my way through the crowds to the self-check isle, stomped my foot in frustration at the slowness of it, and hurried back out the door as fast as I could. Praying the whole time the kitten would still be there, that it hadn't tried to go across any of the streets.

I came screeching back into the parking lot, all but flinging myself out of the vehicle before it came to a full stop, all ears for that pitiful meowing. Still there! The can had a pull-tab. I ripped it off, only then realizing I didn't have a spoon or anything to get it out of the can. Yeah, well, that's why God gave us fingers. I found a piece of scrap fabric laying on the steps beside the loading dock (that particular store is a fabric shop) and put a little food down just past the edge of the dock.

A tiny little nose peeked out, sniffing the air, and quickly gobbled that pebble sized bit of food. I tried putting small bits of food in a line to the whole can, hoping it would work it's way long the trail, to the can so I could snatch it up. Alas, it was just too scared to come out more than a nose length. Only once did it stick it's head out far enough that I could go for the scruff of the neck. I wasn't expecting it and unfortunately the kitten moved back faster than I could grab.

It was starting to get late. I'd sat there for almost two hours. I was torn. I was afraid I couldn't catch it but I knew I couldn't just go off and leave it there. Every time I thought I would have to give up, to leave it, it would meow and my heart would cramp up like it was being squeezed by a huge fist. Finally, I sent up a prayer and asked what was the right thing to do. Not all creatures can live. Not all creatures can be saved. Sometimes, no matter how much it hurts, no matter the guilt I would have to find a way to live with, I might have to let it die. I knew it would be getting dark soon, the threat of a storm lurking overhead. I might have to just get in the truck and go home. With tears in my eyes, I prayed from the heart and asked ... "What do I do?"

I heard one word. Patience.

I took that can of food, dumped the whole thing on that piece of cloth and set it on the ground at the edge of the dock. I waited. It seemed like an hour but finally this tiny little head comes out, nose twitching. A little further. A little closer to the food. It's stomach overcoming the fear long enough to venture far enough out to eat. Meowing and grabbing mouthfuls of food at the same time.

That time I was ready.

I snatched it up before it knew what happened.

I quickly snuggled it in my lap and stuck the food back in it's face. I held it as gently but as firmly as I could and it ate more than half that can of food. As soon as it stopped eating I yanked my t-shirt out (from being tucked in my pants) and wrapped the bottom if it around the kitten, hurried across the parking lot and jumped in the truck. The kitten stayed wrapped in my shirt almost all the way home. About a mile or so from the house it got loose and went straight under the seat.

Oh great! I could just see it leaping out and running off into the woods as soon as I parked in the driveway behind the house. When I got home I eased the truck door open and slipped out. I found it, hunched into a ball and shivering with fright, under the backside of the seat and quickly snuggled it back into my t-shirt. Straight shot into the house and into the master bathroom. With it safely ensconced in there I was able to get one of Creepy's extra litter boxes fixed with litter, food and water in bowls, a few spare cat toys and went into the bathroom with the stuff. It was hiding behind the laundry hamper.

Poor thing. I put the hamper on it's side and lined it with towels and my t-shirt. I put the kitty in with a stuffed toy skunk for company while I got everything else ready. It wasted little time getting to the food bowl. Drank a bit of water. Skittered around it's new environment for a minute. Then the most wonderful thing happened ... it came up to me and head-butt loved my hand. It started to purr like crazy. For the next thirty minutes I got an incredible, full-fledged dose of kitty love.

I don't know if it was just grateful for being saved and now felt safe and protected, it's belly full, a warm pair of hands of hold it and pet it, a warm washcloth bath (which it totally loved!) to make it feel a little cleaner. I don't know. What I do know is it is the sweetest, lovingest, purringest, fuzz ball I've had the pleasure of holding in a very long time. It was worth being saved. A hundred times over.

Now, I don't think Creepy will agree to that one iota. Nope, Creepy thinks it's a nasty, horrible, vermanistic abomination violating her world. When Creepy smelled it on my hands she laid her ears back and hissed like the Devil had just reared up out of the ground. She ran and hid under the dining room table and had a growling fit. Hussy actually swatted at me as I walked past. After she settled down, and I washed my hands, we made peace with some cat treats.

Later, when I opened the bathroom door and was sitting there on the floor with the kitten, Creepy came to investigate. Spying the kitten, she stopped in her tracks at the doorway, lowered her back and ears, growled and slunk backwards in retreat. I didn't see her for the next half hour. Not an unexpected reaction, considering her history of antisocial behavior with all other cats. I knew from the get-go this wasn't going to be easy. Creepy has been the sole feline in this house since her arrival eight years ago. She isn't going to adjust to another kitten quickly, nor easily ... if at all.

I tried bringing the kitten into the living room and sitting on the couch with it for awhile to see what Creepy would do. When she first came over she didn't realize the kitten was there. When the kitten, whom I've named "Tuck" because of the way he tucks his tail and tucks his body into the crook of your arm to snuggle, peeked over the edge of the sofa Creepy almost fainted. Her ears flattened completely and she hissed at both me and Tuck with true and sincere hostility. I tried to talked to her calmly, introduce the kitten, but I didn't dare reach out to touch her. I'm sure I would have drawn back a bloody stump of a hand. She was that upset. She again retreated to the safety of the dining room table, glaring and growling her disapproval of the situation and the invader.

Last year I debated for awhile about getting another cat. I'd thought that if it stood any chance of working it would have to be a kitten. But, fear of how Creepy would react, fear of her hurting a little kitty made me decide against it. Now, a kitten has come to me, to my care, and I don't know what to do. To be honest, I'm not sure this will work out well. Like I said, it may be impossible to get Creepy to even tolerate his presence in some semblance of acceptance. I just don't know. But then, it may be exactly what Creepy needs, a friend and playmate. I've always had at least two cats when I've had them at all. They keep each other company. But Creepy has always been alone. She may be too old and set in her ways to put up with the indignities of another cat in the house. I do have a great fear she will hurt it. Creepy is a big girl and this kitten is so small, so frail. I will admit freely that I'm worried about how it's going to go between the two of them.

But Tuck is a darling. At first, I thought he was black but in the light I discovered he's dark chocolate brown with faint lighter brown markings. Even his little feet pads and nose are brown. Well, take a look at the photos and see him for yourself ......

Aaaaah! Holy smokes, what was that flash!

Mmmmmm! Hands are for lovin'!

I like feet! They are really good for lovin', too!

Must kill this thing with feathers!

Yummy! Food! And my head fits so nicely in the bowl!

So, naturally I called the husband and told him about our new addition. He's excited. I had to take the pictures and send them to his phone because he won't be home until this coming weekend. No way he could stand it that long to see his new baby. I told him, "Well, it's a day early, but Happy Father's Day! It's a boy!" He laughed. I have a feeling this cat, if he survives the Creepy, may end up being a "daddy's boy" the way Creepy is a "momma's girl". The husband loves lovey cats and Tuck is certainly that. A snuggler with a capital S.

Tomorrow I guess I have to call and make an appointment with the vet for a once-over inspection and de-worming. Then in a few months it will be another appointment for the "snip" ... which I'm a firm believer in having done. All of the pets I've ever had have been spayed or neutered. Not that I have to worry about more kittens, but I don't want Tuck to break bad with his whole maleness and mark up the house with urine, ya' know? Not a pleasant thing.

Wish me luck!

Namaste, y'all ...