Last Thursday a kitten was miraculously put into our care. I was washing the dinner dishes when our doorbell rang and a distraught young man begged us for our telephone to call the police.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"We have a kitten stuck in the middle of our car engine and I'm not sure what to do," he said, gesturing to his car, stopped on Westerly Parkway with the hood up and four-ways on.
Carolyn immediately called the vet and I ran out to the car to see if I could help. Indeed, buried deep within the engine was a tiny, nearly comatose kitten.
"He must have crawled up there before we drove off," explained the young man. "There are a lot of strays around where we live."
I could not tell whether the kitten was injured, so I touched it gently, realizing that even a kitten could bury its teeth into me. It only squirmed a little. I tried to coax it backward and down to the street, where the young man's wife waited to catch it. The engine was hot and I worried about the kitten getting burned. Finally, I managed to get the scruff of its neck and gently extract it. It was terrified but apparently not hurt. My wife and I offered to care for him until we could find him a home.
We figure he is about 4 or 5 weeks old. He was not weaned, so we have been feeding him kitten formula from an eyedropper. Because we have four adult cats, we've been isolating him in our bedroom, with one of us usually staying in the room with him. We put the word out, and a couple of people have indicated an interest in him. I'll miss him when he moves into his new home. Is there any sensation as lovely as the feel of a small kitten curled next to your head on your pillow, purring contentedly?