How long does it take for a heart to become engulfed in the sweetness and tenderness of an animal? How long does it take for a heart to mend after that tenderness has been peeled back and scraped away. This day was like no other for us as we put those questions to the test. What started out as a normal Sunday morning of coffee and constructing agendas, began to twist in another direction.
As is normal, Tez was up early on her day off. She made her way out to the couch sipping coffee and waiting for the rest of her slumbering mind to rise. I was soon at the end of the bed, shaking off the sleep and commencing my morning routine. "Do you hear that?" she asked as I stood propped up at the counter waiting for the Keurig to dispense the morning joe. My ears struggled to hear the faint shrieks of a cat, or more so, a kitten in the distance. Apparently, these cries had been going on since the night before when we returned from our day trip to Casper. Little tiny distress calls all night and morning long. "Is it trapped in the garbage?", I thought. "Why is it going on and on?"
She asks, "Shouldn't we make sure it's okay?", suggesting that I might feel better about that bird I knocked out of its misery, yesterday on the highway, if I checked on the status of this mystery kitty. A little feel good karma for knocking the lights out on tweety. I must admit, I was a little upset about the bird.
8:30am With coffee in hand, I head outside to zero in on the cries for help. It didn't take long for the cries to hit the air and I was pulled in the direction of the dumpster stalls. I make my way to the dumpster as the intermittent shrieks grow quieter. A look in the bin revealed no kitten and no cries. Another cry and I'm making a one eighty back towards the rig. Another cry to the left. A Jaguar sedan sits in my sights. Another yelp and I'm standing in front of the passenger side fender well. For minutes I stand silently waiting for the next clue. Five minutes passes and I kneel down in front of the tire. Waiting. Still waiting and, suddenly, the rustle of fur and nails against plastic and metal. Did I imagine that? Still no cry for help. I'm about to leave my crouching position and the brother of the car owner shows up. I greet the man, George, and inform him that I've tracked down a possible feline stowing away in the front end of his brother's Jaguar. George was kind enough to pop the hood and after six pairs of eyes scour the engine compartment and blow the horn, just for good measure, no cat is found. Though I'm concerned we've overlook the little bugger, I head back to the motor home to chase down a plan for the day.
10:00am The dog is walked and fed. The coffee cup is nearly empty and I've hit the computer to explore the possibilities of venturing out to other parts of Wyoming. Another cry and I drop what I am doing and head out the door. The tiny shrieks lead me to an over grown grassy plot between the dumpsters and the public bathhouse. Slowly I follow the sound to find kitten, crouched in the tall grass looking up at me. I gently reach forward to offer my scent, being cautious not to make sudden movements. I reach further in to pull her from the weeds. A blood curdling wail she lets out. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." Tez, hearing the wail no doubt, meets me in the grass to where kitten and I are with some wet food on a small paper plate and water in hand. Kitten is startled by the enormity of the plate, so a small amount of food I press onto my finger. She nearly chews my finger as she gulps down the food. Again, she is easily startled and escapes our grasp into the weeds against a stone wall. I offer her more food, but she backs further away until she can make a full escape toward the underside of our rig. She is hidden, but her cries confirm she is there.
11:30am After sitting outside waiting and searching for her hiding spot, we retreat inside from the hot sun. The question looms over us inside, "What to do?" We attempt ignore the occasional yelps. We try to move on with our day. Will the momma ever return? Hers calls have gone unanswered since the night before. Her cries become more insistent and frequent. There is no ignoring this kitten. The last thing I want is for us to go crazy from the whining and for her to go helpless in the engine compartment of our Winnebago. I am back outside, under the rear of the bus searching, again, for the distress call. I pull out my phone and Googlize a search for the sounds of a mother cat calling to her kittens. Over and over I play this sound bite to coax her down and out. It's causing her to respond and move around, but not to come out. For twenty minutes I lay under the engine playing the part of mother cat and finally get kitten to prop herself into a position that I can reach in. She begins to move away but I am able to catch her back leg and pull her closer to get a better handle on her body. She lets out another wail, "Don't kill me!" I pull her close to my chest and calm her while I calm my breathing. She is filthy with engine soot and grease. I scoot my way out and sit on the ground waiting to breathe easy. Tez makes her way back out and sits under the awning as I pass kitten over to her. I let out a heavy sigh. That was rough. I don't want her back up in there, again.
12:00pm As before, the question, "What to do?" She eats a little more and drinks some water. She seems healthy. I feel we can't bring a feral kitten into our home. There are plenty of mousing jobs in the fairground's barns. Perhaps I can give her a head start to the horse stalls that are far away from the engine compartment of the motor home. So I give Tez the plan and start walking kitten down towards the barns. Looking up at me as I'm walking, she melts my heart a little with a tiny 'meow'. I'm just going to find a safe place to put her, so she can find her way. There will be other's for you to help you along. "Mew." Deeper she becomes entangled in my heart strings as I stop and slowly change direction. I arrive back at the motor home and sit down under the awning with kitten still nestled into my chest.
1:00pm Now Tez has joined me outside in the shade of the day discussing kitten. "What to do?" Momma is obviously not coming back for her kitten. I couldn't just let her fend for herself. Can we possibly add her to our home? How will Gracie react? I can almost guess what Chase will do. Slowly, we can introduce her to our noisy, bouncy rolling home. I'll get Chase out and over to the park to burn off some energy While Tez brings her in to sit on the couch. Kitten proofing needs to be done. There are areas in the coach that a tiny kitten can slip into and then I'll have to tear walls out to get to her. While Tez sits outside with kitten, I head inside to create temporary barriers so we don't lose kitten. In the bathroom I set up a spare litter box and clean Gracie's box. I grab the dog and his bag and quietly sneak out as Tez takes the kitten out of view until we're gone. It's done. Here we go.
3:00pm Chase and I return to the rig. It's peaceful. I get the dog inside quietly enough so I don't stir up any commotion. "How'd we do?" Kitten is quiet. Chase hasn't noticed her yet. The leash remains on. Gracie is hiding somewhere. "Gracie's been hissing. The kitten was hissing. Gracie was growling. I don't know where she is." The felines aren't happy. The canine is oblivious, so far. We start talking about the litter box and kitten squeezing under the bathroom door. And then, Chase spots a foreign body on Tez's chest. without hesitation, he moves in to inspect in his over assertive, high anxiety way that only Chase knows how to do. With full nose in and hissing and swatting claws, peace turns to chaos. I grab Chase by the scruff and chest and pull him back into a body slam. Gracie peeks her head out from the front curtains, growling. Tez reacquires kitten and nestles her back into her chest. We spend the next hour going over how we can make this possible. Gracie is the least bit satisfied and a constant, low growl attests to that dissatisfaction. even as I stroke Gracie's favorite spots she is unswerving of her feelings and even the slightest brush of her un-favorite spots causes her to his growl and bite. She is not favorable to this discussion. We listen to instructionals on how to introduce a kitten to an older cat. The steps, seem easy. The environment, proves hard. There is no space in a motor home to coordinate a controlled introduction. "What to do?" We begin discussing how to go about housing kitten for the night as no animal shelter or vet would be available on Sunday at this hour. At this moment, I spot George pulling back in with his truck. I hope he has an answer for me about a solution. I gather up the dog and his leash and meet George at his truck ands ask him if he knows if anyone from the fairgrounds would be available to talk to about our kitten. I presume because he's been here for over a month with contract work, he might have some inside information. George, regrettably, is unable to help me out.
4:30pm With no information from George, I search my mind and remember, while Chase and I were at the park playing, a church group was busy moving kids into the dormitory. There had to be somebody in charge over there. With leash in hand, I drag Chase over to the dorm where I find Victor. Victor happens to be the one in charge of the church group and I begin to give him the abridged version of our kitten plight. "Is there anyone you know of from the fairgrounds that may still be on sight?" I ask. He says yes but they leave at 5:00. "Can you take me to them?" Victor agrees and I begin the long arduous task of "hoofing it" to the fairground's office. While Tez sits quietly at home with kitten on her chest and no idea where I am, Victor and I and my less than cooperative lungs walk to the other side of the fairgrounds and meet Sara, who is spray painting a giant cowboy boot out in the middle of the parking lot. I explain to her the story of our day and this tiny kitten and hope that she knows if the fairgrounds look after the feral cats as the feral cats look after the barns. She explains that there aren't many feral cats on the grounds and that the less savvy cats tend to get picked up by the coyotes. Sara did however agree to take the kitten and ask the Pioneer Museum and others about adopting kitten. A huge relief and a long walk back to the rig, I arrived at the front door and, between breathes, shouted, "We have an option, but we have to go now." Tez and kitten came out, I threw the dog in the RV and we headed back over to the fairground's office in the truck.
5:43pm The closer we came to the office, the more hurtful our hearts began to feel. By the time we pulled in front of the office door, our eyes were filled with tears. Saying goodbye to kitten was like handing over our child to a stranger. How could this have happened so quickly? How did this kitten get so tangled up in our heart strings like a common ball of yarn? How is it that we fell so in love with this tiny little creature, in such a short amount of time, that it would bring tears to a grown man's eyes. Tez could not go in with me to hand kitten over to Sara. It was just too much heartache to bare. As I cradled this tiny thing in my hands against my chest, I can see her blue eyes looking up at me. I can hear her tiny 'mew' as we walk in the door and as Sara scoops her up and steps back, I can feel the strings of my heart being tugged away as kitten moves on to a new Journey.
How long does it take for a heart to become engulfed in the sweetness and tenderness of an animal? Was it ten hours? Was it an hour? It was minutes. From the moment we saw those eyes staring up from the tall grass to first time she was nestled against our chest. It took barely any time at all for our hearts to become completely entangled with this animal. I am glad we had this short time together and grateful we found a place in our hearts and forever home safe and away.
I will always see her blue eyes looking up at me.
The following day, I went back to the office, all dry eyed and sniffle free, to see Sara. She was happy to see me and Chase, again, and had great news. A co-worker, who had been wanting a kitten (as long as it was female), was interested and was kind enough to have kitten looked over at the local vet. Kitten is a very healthy and happy tortoise shell long hair calico and she most definitely is female. I wish for all the best for kitten and her new owner and I especially hope that she ends up being an indoor cat. No more engine compartments.