A tiny kitten showed up on our doorstep one blustery January morning. We were a dog family, and hubby, who’d had a bad childhood experience when a neighborhood cat killed his guinea pig wasn’t going to leave it open for discussion. The kitten had to go.
But it was the weekend, and a winter storm was coming. We had five dogs at the time, two mutts and three Samoyeds who at times seemed more wolf than domesticated dog. Even if I wanted to bring the kitten in, I knew it would be too dangerous with dogs who didn’t even tolerate the neighbors’ cats. So I made the kitten a kennel with big fluffy bedding, and plenty of food and water.
The storm lasted longer than we expected, and every day I became more and more attached to the kitten, now renamed Kitty.
|Kitty and one of his pack of pups|
My dogs have a strong pack instinct. They lived and traveled like a pack and pack law was upheld by our oldest Samoyed, the matriarch, Czarina.
Czar, a stickler for protocol, had one secret that only I knew. She loved mothering little animals. I was counting on that instinct to work for me now.
I ordered everyone but Czarina into the next room. The giant dog lay there, watching me with interest as I brought the kitten in.
I’d know immediately if Kitty would be welcomed and that would decide his fate. The kitten had just finished a full meal and was dozing when I brought him in. Czar who liked to lay with her front paws crossed at the ankles, sniffed the little bundle as I placed him at her feet.
Kitty stretched up and looked into Czarina’s dark almond eyes. He must’ve sized her up as a big wooly blanket because he tiptoed over her paws and nestled in the hollow, purring contentedly. Czar, with all the gentleness she could muster, cradled the tiny kitten as if he were her own.
One by one, I let the other dogs in. Each one sniffed the tiny purring machine. Their matriarch had deemed Kitty one of the pack. And so it was.
|Kitty and his bodyguards|
His new sisters turned out to be a bonus too. Kitty was tiny, often bullied by other cats and dogs when he roamed. But that rascal had a wicked sense of humor. He would taunt his bullies until they chased him into our yard—where they were promptly greeted by Kitty’s bodyguards, two 100-pound Rottweilers, looming menacingly on either side of him. That had to be the most well-protected cat on the planet. The girls didn’t like anyone picking on their little brother.
To this day, I’d swear Kitty snickered every time he pulled this stunt.
We lived in a neighborhood full of cats, but that little shivering kitten chose us, the only dog family in the area. I have a feeling, Kitty knew all along where he belonged. All he wanted was a chance.
Miss Mousie needs a chance too. Will you leave a little something for her much-needed surgery? See her story here. Even a few dollars will help. All donations are tax deductible and go directly into West Columbia Gorge Humane Society. Pass the word, friends. We need to help Miss Mousie.