Ten days ago Robert and I went out to lunch from work and our lives changed that day. We came back and parked near the street and heard some pitiful, plaintive cries. The kind of cries that rip your heart into a thousand pieces.
Locked in the fenced in part of our dumpster was a tiny kitten that someone dumped and left to die. When we tried to catch him, he ran and hid in some juniper and briar bushes. We couldn’t get him, and we had to go back to work, as impossible as it was to leave him by the busy street. I went back out about an hour later and saw he was still hiding, and crying in such a sad voice, but he was so scared that he stayed just out of reach.
A few more hours later when we got off work, I told Robert that if the kitten was still there, I wasn’t leaving until we had him. I don’t know if I’ll ever forget the sound of his wails. He was a just a baby. It took about 30 minutes for the two of us to finally grab him. I held him and petted him and tried to reassure him that he was safe with us.
After a trip straight to our vet, who thankfully is open late on Tuesdays, we learned that the kitten was approximately 6 weeks old, weighed a mere 3/4 of a pound, and despite the fact that he was starving – who knows how long it had been since he’d eaten – he was in fairly good condition. We stopped at Wal-Mart to pick up a couple of essentials and headed home.
Since he was too young to test for feline leukemia, we have to keep him isolated for 3 weeks until he can be tested, just to keep our other older cats safe. We also have to wash our hands after contact with the kitten and before petting the girls. We set up a safe cubbie in the basement bathroom, with a soft towel, litter box, new food and water bowls, and a couple of toys.
The little guy hissed at us that night – a “I’m gonna get big and ferocious” kind of hiss out of his “I’m so scared and don’t know what’s going to happen to me” squeaky voice, but he still let us pet him and soothe him, and didn’t have any issues eating. After living wondering where his next meal was going to come from, I can’t blame him.
Day two was a miracle. Instead of going straight to the food bowl, he wanted to be picked up and held. We got down on the floor with him, and he came to cuddle under my neck – you could tell he knew he was safe and that he would be protected.
The cries stopped and turned to grateful purrs, but it’s we who should be grateful that he allowed us to rescue him. He has already brought so much joy to our lives and is a perfect, happy, active 7 week old kitten now.

To the person or persons who dumped him – you are despicable. I can think of a thousand ways that you ought to be treated, starting with the starvation and lack of shelter in a scary thunderstorm that you subjected this tiny baby to. It’s a good thing that I am not responsible for your punishment. But then again, I know without a doubt that this kitten is a million times better off with us than he ever was with you. We will love him and care for him and treat him better than you probably treat your children, if you have any.
By the way, his name is Fred, he’s ours, and we love him.
































































