And Frankie makes three ...

Last Wednesday night, Steve worked late. When he got home, he presented me with a tiny scrap of cat flesh with the biggest blue eyes I'd ever seen. He was driving down the highway when a wee kitten dashed out onto the road in front of him, then dashed back into the ditch. He stopped and called to it, thinking it probably long gone, but the kitten ran to him as fast as his little legs could go. Being a bit of a softy, Steve knew he couldn't leave him and so brought him home.

Our original plan was to, 1) try to find owners or, that failing, 2) try to find him a good home. He was in rough shape. His spine and hip bones jutted up from his tiny back and you could count each rib easily. He had fleas and ear mites. He had a bare patch on his nose where all the hide has been scraped off in the past. He had three small cuts on his forehead that looked to be from teeth or claws. He was a pretty pathetic sight.

We took him in and fed him. Steve began looking for his owners the following day, despite having already stopped at the only three houses within a mile radius of where he was found to see if he belonged there. Meanwhile, I began the search for something he would eat. Dry cat food was too hard for him. I bought canned, of which he only at a little. I mixed the canned with milk and he mostly licked the milk off. By Saturday morning, he was getting even thinner and was starting to be lethargic.

A quick trip to the vet yielded treatments for worms and ear mites. I had already treated his fleas. She gave me an antibiotic to give him as his eyes were runny. She also suggested a milk-replacer rather than just cow's milk. I brought him home and blended the milk-replacer with the canned cat food and he attacked it as only the starving can. A mere 24-hours later he was energetic, bright-eyed and playing as a kitten should. It was at this point .... well, actually probably before this point ... that we all realized that we could never give him away. It seemed like he was put into Steve's path, knowing we would care for him and love him. If we're sitting on the couch, he'll crawl up into our laps and sit staring into our faces and purring contentedly. How can we look into the face of such trust and not give him a home?

And so .... we have a new cat. We already have two cats. We most certainly did not need another cat. But a new cat we now have.

The most surprising thing about his introduction to our home is that Sunny, Levi's big, orange cat, has actually taken to him. Sunny is the same cat that tortured our female cat for about two years until she learned to fight back. Sunny spent about two days hissing at Frankie. He now plays with him often and has even been observed grooming him. Sunny seems to agree that he belongs with us. Twilight still hisses at him, but she's grumpy. Even Ty, our dog, has taken his presence with at least patience, if not quite joy.

I used to believe that people who dumped animals should have a special place in Hell reserved for them, but I no longer believe that. I now believe they should go to Heaven. Yes, God should take them in, feed them, clothe them, give them a warm, safe place to live. For five or six weeks. Then he should take them out on a cold, rainy night and dump them in the country and leave them there wishing them luck. If some kind family comes along that wants to take them in, so be it. If not ... are those wolves I hear??