The following is a blog I posted on myspace about something that happened on one of my evening walks with Jackie.
Pondering the kindness of strangers, I feel the need to share a tale of what transpired only two nights ago:
Jackie and I were out traversing the neighborhood, I in the hopes she would actually pee and poop, neither of which she had done in over six hours, she in the simple ecstasy of exploring a new place with no thoughts of defecation.
About an hour into our walk, my hopes dashed but Jackie's come to fruition, I heard a "Mew!" come from the darkness around me near the sidewalk. I looked up into a tree thinking maybe it was a bird. After a few more "Mew's" I came to the conclusion it was clearly a kitten. I couldn't see her anywhere so we walked on a few more steps. Hearing the call again I said to Jackie, "No, wait. Let's go back."
Jackie was kind enough to succumb to my request and I stood beneath the tree trying to figure out where the call was coming from. I was sure it was a lost kitten, and there was a sound of desperation in its voice. I heard it again, only this time it sounded like it came from under a car. (Clearly I need my hearing checked). I turned on my flashlight and saw the outline of a grey kitten mewing beneath the back wheel of a parked car.
Jackie didn't seem the least bit affected, but I wasn't about to try to maneuver her and grab a kitten from beneath a car that might bolt out into the street. I looked behind me, and a house that had been empty only two months ago had a light on. A car was in the driveway and even though it was 11 o'clock at night, I took a chance and knocked on the door.
A woman appeared, clearly taken aback by someone knocking on her door at that hour and her little dog started his alert inside. I motioned toward the car and said, "There's a kitten under the car. Is she yours?" In response she opened the door for me. I was happy to be a girl at that moment. Had I been male, I don't know if she would have opened the door for me at that late hour.
I told her the situation and she grabbed a towel from inside and went out to the car with me. In her nightgown, this Good Samaritan knelt down and picked up the kitten with the towel. As she brought her up into the light I saw the source of the kitten's desperation. She wasn't just lost--she had been attacked. Her front leg was hanging by a thread, the open wound covered with so much dirt and filth I couldn't even see blood coming out. The Good Samaritan pointed out that the kitten's ear was also torn and just as we were about to discuss our next step, the sprinkler system went off.
My cell phone was charging at home, which was the only reason I hadn't called animal control to begin with. The woman ran through the sprinklers to her porch and said, "Okay, I'll take care of this. I don't know what to do with a cat! I don't have cats!" Sounding exactly like me when a kitten enlists my help.
I asked if there was anything I could do and she said, "Maybe you can take your dog home and come back and help me," and ran inside her door.
I knew I couldn't leave Jackie in my apartment, but I could at least grab my cell phone and call one of the numerous cat owners in my building who might know what to do. The fact that I actually had taken a Pet CPR and First Aid class had slipped my mind. This kitten needed more than first aid--she needed a vet who could perform surgery.
After speaking with a cat owner whose only suggestion was to call Animal Control since the kitten could have been attacked by something with rabies and who knows what else that could infect Jackie, I booked it down the five blocks back to the woman's house.
By the time I arrived back, she had called Animal Control, given the kitten baby aspirin, and made a tourniquet in the hopes of stopping the bleeding. The kitten began to cry again, so I left so she could get back inside, thankful that she opened the door to a stranger that night.
As Jackie and I continued walking, I wondered what the kitten's outcome would be. I figured that Animal Control would euthanize her. You see three-legged dogs all the time, but three-legged cats? Probably too hard of a life for them. And who knows how long she had been crying in the darkness while her life source drained out of her. I could only hope that if she could not get veterinary care that she would die knowing at least one other being on this planet cared and tried to help her.
The Good Samaritan wasn't home the next day when I walked by, and today I left a note on her car asking her to call me. While I was writing the beginning of this tale, she called me. So now you too will know the outcome of this story. It was heartbreaking. Animal Control said they euthanize most kittens that young and small because the survival rate is so slim, regardless of if she was injured or not. The lady offered to adopt her even if she did have three legs. She called the next day, not sure if she really wanted to know, but knowing she had to. She was informed that the kitten had passed away due to natural causes, not euthanized.
Probably the shock and trauma was too much. I don't consider it "natural causes", but I suppose an attack by a natural being makes it a "natural cause." I had written in my note to her, and reiterated over the phone again, that I suspected the kitten wouldn't make it, but was glad that before the little life ended that she knew the touch and love of human hands, even for just a brief moment. She didn't die alone in agony beneath the wheel well of a car.
At first I was upset that I couldn't help the kitten because I had Jackie with me. But had I not had Jackie, I never would have been walking down the street and heard the kitten's cry. Had I had my cell phone, I simply would have called animal control, instead of enlisting the help of a stranger. And just by this woman opening the door, it brought back to me the kindness of strangers when a helpless animal is involved. She probably had to go to work in the morning unlike me, but she stayed up, trying to calm the terrified kitten who was in pain so excruciating I can't even imagine. She waited for Animal Control and did her part for the little life that somehow ended up outside her door, not anyone else's.
We didn't save that life. Her physical injuries were far worse than either she or I could fix. But maybe that's not why we were all placed together. Maybe some benevolent spirit knew that the pain of living was just too much for this kitten. Our purpose was not to save her life, but give that life just a glimmer of love, a moment of caring, before returning to the spirit world. She was in too much physical pain; but we could try to ease the emotional pain. She did not die alone beneath a car in the darkness of night, the feline angel of death beside her. Instead an angel reached out and tapped me on the shoulder and enlisted my help to find other help. Before this life ended, she would know love and care from human hands. And she would bring two strangers together in this city, to prove that when it comes to the welfare of an animal, the walls we put up between us can be broken down and we can open the door to a stranger in need.
Rest in peace, little kitten. Your life was not a waste. I am sorry for the circumstances you endured and pain you experienced. But I hope you felt the love radiating from that stranger's hands and voice as she tried to soothe you in your moment of need. And know that it assured me that here where gangs roam the streets, people are gunned down in drive-by shootings, and humans can seem to only show hate, that love still exists and that when we least expect it, we are shown that the City of Angels is aptly named. For in the dark of night, when you need it most, there are angels. You need only open your mind and heart to find them.
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