Is this the year of the cat?
I don’t think we have any secrets here about my love (or lack-thereof) for cats. And yet, we are somehow managing to care for two of them. Or perhaps I should say were.
Because, when I got out of bed this morning and decided to treat myself to a coffee from the coffee stand (it is a holiday, you know), guess what I found sitting in my driveway …
A tiny, abandoned kitten. That looked like it was hit by a bus and then mauled by a pack of wolves. Only to be left for dead in the middle of the woods without food or water for a few weeks. Until it finally dragged its sorry little self to the middle of my driveway and begged for mercy with its limp, scraggly body.
“Can we keep him?” my children begged.
“Don’t touch him,” I directed.
The kids ran inside to get him a pillow and a bowl of food. I thought if I could just make him comfortable enough to gain some strength, perhaps he’d continue on his way. So, we wrapped him up in a towel, gave him some water, and he climbed right into my lap.
Do I look like a cat lover?
Do I look like I’ve even had a cup of coffee yet this morning?
So there I am … sitting on the cold concrete in my driveway with this dirty, wet, pathetic little creature in my lap … thinking I’m doing the right thing by trying half-heartedly to help it until it moves on to somebody else’s door step. But then the eagles start soaring over head. And I know there is a huge wolf-dog next door that sends our healthy cats running up a tree. This little guy doesn’t stand a chance out here. So, I grab my phone and start dialing the local animal shelters. Somebody has to take care of this cat. Turns out, it’s Memorial Day. Everything is closed.
That’s when some kind of Buddhist love for all living creatures takes over. So, I scoop up the little flea-bag–which is probably also a rabid mess–and set it gently in our deep bath tub. Because I figure this guy isn’t jumping any heights or scaling any walls anytime soon. Maybe he’ll just sleep with those big weepy eyes. Only … now I can’t take a shower, because I just want the animal to sleep quietly until I can figure out what to do with it.
There are a number of things I would like to minimize about this whole scenario. But I’d probably be able to adapt better to all of them if I just had a cup of coffee.