Street Corner Kitten

The kitten came in from the downtown traffic and the city heat through a garage door. She was scrawny and undernourished and skittish but easily won over by a common offering of tuna fish. Everyone liked her but no one wanted her enough to take her home. She was nothing special, just another castoff street kitten at the mercy of strangers and fast moving cars.

Taking her home to six grown cats and two dogs was madness. I could see the headlines - "Old Mad Cat Woman Found Dead on Baltimore Avenue!". ...."Police Suspect Jealous Dogs!". I saw vet bills that I'd never live long enough to pay. I saw myself being buried in kitty litter. I thought about naming her Trifle because she'd only be a trifle more trouble.

I really did make every effort to get a grip but I could feel the resolve slipping away when I held her. She weighed next to nothing and immediately began to purr. I thought about the range wars over territory that would be inevitable - the night fighting that would keep me up - about how the dogs would react - about how tiny she was and how hard it was going to be to intergrate her without bloodletting. The balance of power in my home is very delicate. Occasional outbreaks of domestic violence do happen but they usually resolve themselves without the need for arbitration or intervention. That, however, is with existing treaties - an intruder was undoubtably going to call for UN peacekeepers. So I tried out a tentative " No" in my mind but it was weak up against the furry little face that was nuzzling under my chin.

A quiet voice in my head says "You can't save them all".

But I can save the ones who make their way to me.