Yesterday, I was driving to get my hair cut when I passed a cellular phone place. In the near-empty parking lot, collapsed and panting rapidly, was a young black and white kitten (about 7 weeks of age). A few yards away, in the shade, stood a heavy-set woman, glancing at a cell phone and waiting. She was not looking at the kitten, but she could see it. The kitten's mouth was open, and it was panting hard, obviously suffering from heat exhaustion (the temperature was in the low 90's F and the sun was bright). It was clearly still alive but clearly in distress. The whole scene struck me as surreal. There was a dying kitten in the middle of a parking lot, and there was a human being a few yards away, completely without empathy.
I immediately swung the car left, parked, walked over and scooped up the kitten. Her tongue was bright red, she was panting rapidly. I checked her quickly for injuries, and didn't see any, but she was too weak to move much. At this point, the "observer" started to take an interest. She volunteered that the kitten had been there like that for a while, that she had not seen how it got there, didn't know who it belonged to. She suggested that there was a water cooler inside the cell phone place, and I should ask them for a cup (why she didn't think of this before my arrival, I don't know, but I was glad she suggested it). I took kitty inside and wet her tongue with the cool water. She wouldn't drink. So, I took her back outside and put her in my air conditioned car.
So much for my hair appointment.
I took the kitten home, gave her a bath, flea'd her, dried her off. I couldn't get her to eat at first, but after pinching off small gobs of wet cat food and putting them in her mouth, I had some success. Then, she drank a lot of water. After a nice long nap, she started to look like a normal kitten. Her eyes are bright, her mouth is normal looking, and her fur is fluffy. I called the nearest (who is not the best, but the nearest) vet, and asked if he had time to give her a quick look. He said he had surgery all day but could glance at her between operations. I took her in, and he looked her over, gave her some oral wormer, and then pronounced her perfectly healthy. "You've got a good cat there," he beamed. He didn't charge me anything, because I found her in a parking lot, which was nice.
Sheesh. She's not my cat.
As a matter of fact, I think she is no one's cat. She's not super people-friendly. I've helped foundlings that were much friendlier. This one acts like a feral kitten. She sort of trusts me, because I saved her, but she is clearly not big on humans. She's young, though, so she will warm up a little... But, I don't know what to do with her now. She can't live under the sink in my laundry room forever:
I immediately swung the car left, parked, walked over and scooped up the kitten. Her tongue was bright red, she was panting rapidly. I checked her quickly for injuries, and didn't see any, but she was too weak to move much. At this point, the "observer" started to take an interest. She volunteered that the kitten had been there like that for a while, that she had not seen how it got there, didn't know who it belonged to. She suggested that there was a water cooler inside the cell phone place, and I should ask them for a cup (why she didn't think of this before my arrival, I don't know, but I was glad she suggested it). I took kitty inside and wet her tongue with the cool water. She wouldn't drink. So, I took her back outside and put her in my air conditioned car.
So much for my hair appointment.
I took the kitten home, gave her a bath, flea'd her, dried her off. I couldn't get her to eat at first, but after pinching off small gobs of wet cat food and putting them in her mouth, I had some success. Then, she drank a lot of water. After a nice long nap, she started to look like a normal kitten. Her eyes are bright, her mouth is normal looking, and her fur is fluffy. I called the nearest (who is not the best, but the nearest) vet, and asked if he had time to give her a quick look. He said he had surgery all day but could glance at her between operations. I took her in, and he looked her over, gave her some oral wormer, and then pronounced her perfectly healthy. "You've got a good cat there," he beamed. He didn't charge me anything, because I found her in a parking lot, which was nice.
Sheesh. She's not my cat.
As a matter of fact, I think she is no one's cat. She's not super people-friendly. I've helped foundlings that were much friendlier. This one acts like a feral kitten. She sort of trusts me, because I saved her, but she is clearly not big on humans. She's young, though, so she will warm up a little... But, I don't know what to do with her now. She can't live under the sink in my laundry room forever:
You know, I really do not understand how people think they have a choice in such a situation. There was only one thing to do, so I did it. I didn't do it because I wanted or needed another cat. But, there was nothing else to be done.
on the person in the parking lot...
