Last year at this time, a little Russian Blue boy kitty came to me, meowing in the feeding area. Around 3 months old, he was a kitten of god-knows-whom, and I was in a pre-Litquake frenzy. I debated even trapping him; if I did, I’d be responsible and then I couldn’t go on my trip to Port Towsend! (Or so the howling voice of insecurity in my head told me.) But I went ahead and grabbed him, and when Litquake rolled around a few weeks later, I asked for help from my friend Cynthia, who’d always wanted a Russian Blue kitten. She took him in and named him Baudelaire, only to discover that her ancient kitty, Belle, was NOT happy about the addition. I was chagrined to hear this, but then divine intervention stepped in AGAIN, and her neighbor, Donna, took Baudelaire. They’ve had a lovely first year.
And now, this is happening again. Yesterday I put some anchovies in a carrier, opened the door, and little lost boy walked right in. He was NOT happy once he got to my house, bolted from the cage in my spare bedroom, and began running around looking for an escape. But he finally settled down, and within hours was rolling around on the carpet, begging for food and affection. He has the most gorgeous eyes I’ve seen in a long time – apparently he’s got Blue Point Siamese in him – so for that reason I’ve named him Mickey. (For the film Mickey Blue Eyes, which I loved.)
Today I whisked him to the vet, praying that he’d have a microchip, but no such luck. The vet, though, pronounced him relatively healthy, despite some parasites and scratches – just a bit thin and dehydrated. And he’s intact, meaning now he has to be neutered. Groan. And he’s a baby – just a year to 18 months. I plan to paper this neighborhood with flyers, asking if someone has lost a kitty? I hope he wasn’t abandoned with his pretty little collar around his neck, which could have easily choked him. I took it off as soon as he let me handle him – it was on too tight, and tattered, which makes me think he’s been lost a good long while. 🙁
Maybe he was a kitten when he got away or was left behind? I despair of my fellow humans sometimes, thinking someone might have moved away and left him in the ravine, thinking they were doing him a favor. But I won’t go there – I choose to think he was a beloved pet who somehow got away. And I’m lighting a candle that someone will see the flyer and be overjoyed that Mickey can come home again at last.
Yes, Jane. Your tale of Baudelaire is confirmed. I fell in kitty love from the first moment I met him at Cynthia’s. Her frustration and disappointment, was my gain. He and I have had a wonderful first year. He is a very engaging character and makes me laugh more often than any other cat I have ever had! He is a very beautiful big boy. I thank you ever so much for the work you do and the gift of the every lovely Baudelaire.