I'm just now writing about this because I still can't believe it's happened again. Last week, Mike and I were at a gas station when we saw a cat running straight for the busy highway. Before I even knew what I was doing, I was out of the car and had grabbed the cat. Not knowing what else to do, I put her in the car. It was at this point that I realized that she was pretty wild, because she did NOT like being in that car! We took her home and put her on our porch, and the next morning I somehow got her into a cat carrier and drove around the neighborhood near the gas station looking for lost cat signs. I didn't see any, so I took her to our vet's office to have them look for a microchip. They took her into a back room, and the vet tech brought her back out a few minutes later and said, "There's no microchip...but she IS pregnant!!!" Like that was some sort of consolation prize or something.
I remember learning about the Great Depression in school. We learned that hobos would write the addresses of places where they could find a handout on train station walls so the other hobos would know where to go. I'm beginning to wonder if kitties don't have a similar system, because the ones in need always seem to find me. It looks like we'll be having more kittens to take care of soon, but this time I'll be responsible for finding homes for them. I hope I can find a good home for Ms. Kitty too, as she's come to be called. I managed to get some pictures of her, thanks to the zoom function on my camera. She's getting more used to human contact; she lets me pet her for brief periods of time. Brooklyn and Morgan don't know WHAT to think of the strange creature living on the porch.
Anyone want a kitten? :)