Curious Trouble

It's amazing what a cute cuddly little animal will do to you. There was a second story from Sunday that I didn't bother to share yesterday because it's quite sad. While I was at church Sunday night Roommate's daughter sent me a text message. She said that Patches (Trouble's mom) had caught a baby bunny, that she had rescued it, and that her mom would be setting it free. All kinds of thoughts swirled through my head. To think about it logically, I'm sure that Patches stumbled upon the bunny in the woods, or maybe it wandered into our yard on its own - I've seen thousands of rabbits around here, usually scurrying across the driveway when I return home late at night. Either way Patches found it and captured it, and was planning on leaving us a present at the front door. This too happens fairly often, though usually it's a dead rat that the cats offer us. And normally when we find our "gift" we pet the cats and show our gratitude then kick the gift off the porch. It would have played out the same this time too. Except... Step-daughter found the bunny before Patches had completed the job. To say that Step-daughter and Roommate are "those animal people" would be a gross understatement. We would have all been a little grossed out and probably would have offered up a few "oh, poor little bunny" type sentiments had we found our gift properly destroyed. But since it wasn't dead when she found it, the bunny became a "cause." She scooped it up and put it in an empty box and fully expected her mom and me to work a miracle and get this bunny well enough to put back into the wild. Maybe she's seen too many after-school specials. The bunny was in bad shape. It had a pretty bad cut behind its head and on one of its back legs. It was basically lifeless as it lay there in the box bleeding and panting. I'm not one of "those animal people" ordinarily, but when I saw it, I felt my heart tugging a little. Part of me wanted to take it outside and put it out of its misery, and the other part of me shared the glimmer of hope that Step-daughter had for its miraculous recovery. We left it in the box in the bathtub for the night, with the plan that I would call the vet the next morning. That's what I did. I told the lady on the phone that under no circumstances were we willing to spend any money on this thing, nor did we want it as a pet if it recuperated, but also that we couldn't stand the thought of "taking care of it" on our own. She said for me to bring it up there and that if they could fix it, they would and then would adopt it out. If not, they would euthanize it. I took it up there about an hour later, and she took one look at it and said, "There's no hope for this poor little thing. Thanks for bringing it in. We'll go ahead and put it down." I was thankful that it wouldn't suffer any longer, proud that we had done the right thing, and surprised at how compelled I had become to care for a wild creature. As I walked out of there, I actually shed a couple of tears, though I quickly regained myself and called Roommate to give the report.

As for Trouble... she spent the night in the house last night. I need to get a picture of this. Sometime ago, Step-daughter bought one of those fake cats that is made to be curled up on its little bed that is tucked neatly into a little box. It's battery operated and breathes and purrs just like a cat. It's weird really. Anyhow, the toy cat was removed, and Step-daughter has designated the little cat-bed as Trouble's new home. She put the cat-bed in the bed with her last night and Trouble stayed in it the whole night. She is just so cute and cuddly in that bed. For whatever reason, I woke up early this morning and was enjoying the quiet of the house with my coffee and my book (The Wedding by Nicholas Sparks) when I heard a cat fight outside. I looked out the window to see that damn gray cat that has tormented us in the past. This time he was after Prissy. Lucy came around about that time and I sent her outside to take care of it. I told Roommate that we needed to leave Trouble inside today. Already I love that little cat too much to leave it outside to be slaughtered by Smokey. Before leaving for work and school, Roommate brought Trouble to me and then put her bed beside me. We decided that she needed to eat, so when they left, I put some tuna on a saucer for her. I took her over to the food and water and tried to get her interested in it. Then I left her alone. She didn't quite know what to do at first. She seems a little timid most of the time, and I think it's time for that to end. She's almost six weeks old and it's time for her to act like a rambunctious little kitten. I have been checking on her from time to time and she is slowly but surely making her way around the house, seeing her world for the first time. I don't know if this whole scenario would touch me as much if she wasn't so cute, but she is so it has. But I'm sure that in a week or two I'll be singing a different tune. I remember when I first got Prissy. The first few days she seemed so fragile and almost pitiful. The thing I knew, she was climbing curtains and lampshades and attacking everything in her sight. Though it got on my nerves at the time, I love to see the newness of a curious little kitten exploring their world.