Who said the road to hell is paved with good intentions?
Yesterday morning, an apricot-colored little ball of fluff was caught outside between a box of tools and the workbench leg. The perhaps six-week-old kitten seemed resigned to its fate, no longer struggling, but caught by its neck as if in a trap.
Of course we rescued it. And because it was shivering (although the day was certainly warm), we figured it needed to be kept from going into shock now that it was free – but captured by gigantic humans. So, inside the house – a little warm milk and water, an eyedropper, wrapped snugly in an old soft T-shirt and a small box inside a larger one once the kitten got sleepy.
But – hold on a minute. The fluff ball wasn’t really hungry. It wasn’t dirty. It didn’t have a single visible flea. Hmmm. We went looking for Mom. Didn’t find her, but found a tiger-striped brother, who bravely hissed at the humans. Apricot Fluff got put back inside the faithful old tool shed (it’s harbored many, many kittens and cats over the years) approximately in the same place Tiger-Striped Brother was seen.
Bet one very angry mother cat is still muttering imprecations against the humans who dared try to ‘rescue’ her baby. At least we did get it released from the squeeze zone of the workbench and tool box.
Kitten Rescue – cancelled.