I dropped Jenna off at school this morning and I see this itsy-bitsy-teensy-weensy kitten curled up against the curb. The parkinglot was empty except for my van and this pathetic looking grey and white splotch of a kitten. It was breathing so hard. All wet from the rain and petrified. Looking up at us like "help!"
So I got a towel out of the car, figured I'd pick it up and take it to a vet. It couldn't have been more than three weeks old. It couldn't walk so well--but it sure could scamper, which is exactly what it did when I tried to pick it up with a towel... like a low-flying bat out of hell, it used whatever energy it had left to haul ass to a grassy area on the other side of the parkinglot. I looked all over the place but couldn't find the mystery kitty.
Then I hear another soft meew meew coming from back by the dumpster. First thought--oh shit--someone's dropped a bag of kittens in the dumpster. Thank goodness, no. It wasn't that. Just beyond the dumpster there are woods--the really gross kind of woods that remain in those "in between" areas between highways and plazas. This particular area is very high traffic, but there are still some dumpy woods between the strip malls--you get the picture.
SO, I look down into this weedy wooded garbagy area, and I see what is a carbon copy of the itsy bitsy kitten all grown up (i.e. mama cat) with another little tinsy winsy black kitten sitting by her. She's obviously wild--takes one look at me with those no-owner cat eyes of terror and takes off. Little black kitty makes his way after her, tripping as he goes.
But I never did find the pathetic little parking lot kitty again. I waited around for a half hour, walked the length of the grass. Don't know where that sad thing went.
So here's the question... do I:
-blog it and forget it? leave ferrel cats be?
-take a bag of cat food when I go back this afternoon to get jenna, open it, and toss it down into the woods where they must be living to help mama cat out a little bit--meals on wheels?
-scour the woods until I find the sad little kitten and take it to the vet (and then what?)?
I know next to nothing about cats. George and I had one for several years, but she was an easy keeper and only came in to say hello, eat, or sleep. I certainly don't know anything about wild ones, except not to get bit.
Come on cat bloggers--leave me some pointers.