A Rainy Day Visitor

The wind was splattering droplets of rain through the window as I dragged myself out of bed. From the kitchen I heard the plaintive cries of a kitten competing with the sound of wind and rain. Has my kitten wound himself with a string? Got trapped in a box?

Boxer

Looking out the window, I saw a kitten sitting on the floor its back towards me. ‘Boxer looks shrunk,’ was my first thought. ‘He must have been caught in the rain and is wet and miserable.’ I opened the kitchen door but no Boxer came running in and that was highly unusual. Another stray kitten? I went out to check but the spot—where a moment ago a kitten had sat—was empty and the mewing had stopped.

I found Boxer still asleep in the front porch and woke him up for breakfast. As I spooned cat food into his dish I spied the stray kitty looking at us from behind all the accumulated junk in the back porch. It looked scared but its empty stomach must have made it risk the safety among Mr. Hubby’s collection of wood, nylon bags and what-nots, for it sprang forward towards the cat dish before retreating again into the shadows.

What spunk! I liked it already. Boxer, who is very timid and frightened of everything (even loud bangs!) acted scared and submissive. He left his dish and ran into the kitchen! Seeing the coast was clear, the stray kitty scampered tippy-toe—like a TV cartoon mouse character—to the food.

One hungry kitten

The way the kitten was all over the dish showed that its last good meal must have been days ago. It was also shivering, probably due more to hunger than the cold. ‘Poor, little kitty,’ I thought as it licked the dish clean. Then, for some reason, it ran towards the door where I was sitting with my camera and froze for a second before it went back to hide among the clutter.

There was just a moment to take its picture. Sonny and I examined the photo later and discovered that the kitten’s whiskers and the hairs above its eyes have been snipped. Whether it has run away from its human abuser or whether someone has left it at our gate, we will never know. However, we’ll take care of it until its whiskers have grown back. Then we’ll find a good home for Whiskers—our name for her.

Note the missing whiskers.

I’m not crazy about cats. I prefer dogs. However, turning away helpless kittens is just like ignoring the needs of human babies, don’t you think?

Boxer with his beautiful, long whiskers.

 If cat owners spay or neuter their pets there’d be no unwanted kittens to abuse, to chase out of the house or to leave at other people’s doorsteps.