Finders Keepers

It was a sticky hot kind of August day, the type of weather that usually had me headed indoors or sprawled under a fan somewhere moaning about the humidity. This Saturday was an exception. I was working at our company’s 90 year reunion, chauffeuring dozens of graduates and their guide dogs around town and greeting familiar faces, both human and canine. I had a brief break in the action between duties to drive down the long winding hill and let out my two dogs, who were enjoying their own air conditioning in the staff dog building. Lucky little devils.

I pulled the fabric of my polo away from my skin and sighed. Some of my coworkers had brought a change in clothing for the evening’s gala event. I couldn’t be bothered to do extra laundry, not to mention I owned zero gala-appropriate attire. My work uniform would have to suffice.

As I entered the building, my German Shepherd Noel began her scream and dance routine, excited for her chance to get outside and play fetch, the Sport of Queens (in her mind). Lana, my pit bull terrier mix, warbled in her usual strange way, her large bat ears flattened against her head as she sang. Fetch was more of an opportunity for her to chase after Noel and be the obnoxious little sister with only the occasional retrieve of her own. In her quickest and sneakiest moments, she could manage to snag the ball before Noel and lead her on a merry chase.

I released the two of them in the attached fenced in yard and they quickly did their business before sprinting around to find a ball. I retreated to the shade where I collapsed into a chair. While the reunion was a great deal of fun, it was also a good deal of work and I was already exhausted. Noel had no sympathy for my struggles, eagerly dropping a ball at my feet and racing away to grab it after each throw. Lana chased her a few times before wandering off in pursuit of some smell. It wasn’t unusual behavior for her so I paid it little attention until she disappeared into a bush.

I called out to her when she didn’t re-emerge right away. I could see her tail wagging excitedly high above her back, the rest of her body immersed in the greenery. I called again and she popped her head out, mouth open wide in the classic pittie grin. She looked at me, eyes bright, before diving under the bush again.

Groaning, I heaved myself out of the chair and ventured closer, hoping she hadn’t found something gross. As I got closer, I could see her dancing around a small black form in the dirt. A vole. I chided her, attempting to shoo her away from the poor thing before we both heard a small sound. Not dead then. And not a vole. The form mewed again.

“Oh no.”

Lana turned to me in triumph. Oh yes mother, her twinkling eyes said. Just LOOK at what I found.

I crouched down, lifting the small body from the earth. It was indeed a kitten. Brand new to the world, eyes and ears both closed. The only thing open was its tiny mouth. As I held it, it mewed again. Lana pushed closer, snuffling at its head gently. Her tail wagged even harder. I gave her a side eye.

“We’re not keeping this.” Wag wag wag. “Seriously.” Wag.

I sighed, cuddling the poor little thing to my chest. It was so small it easily fit in the palm of my hand. I sat down in a nearby chair as Lana sat smiling in front of me, so proud of her discovery.

“I’m calling a rescue as soon as we’re done here.” Wag wag.

Noel eventually realized something exciting was happening. She came over, dropped her ball, and sat, gazing at the creature in my hand with intense interest. “It’s not a snack.” Lana shuffled closer as if to protect her prize.

I finished up with the girls and put them inside again before coming back out to search under the bush for any other kittens. There were no signs of the rest of the litter or mama cat. It was as if this little one had crawled out from the earth, mewing its way into the glaring sun. I stared down at it in my hands. I had no way of knowing how long it had been on its own, but the day was so oppressively hot I knew it would need liquid soon.

I sat in my car, kitten curled against my neck, as I dialed number after number. The first rescue did not take in newborns, the second told me to contact animal control, animal control was then closed and directed me to the police’s non emergency line. I looked down at the kitten again. “Well I guess we should get you some milk to start with.”

I drove to the nearest Agway, tucked the kitten into my shirt, and quickly purchased what I needed. They were out of liquid formula so I drove to Walmart after for the remaining supplies. The kitten protested a bit at first, cold formula and plastic being much less comfortable than warm milk and soft flesh, but eventually latched and drank from the bottle. I stared down at it, gently stroking its small head with the tip of my finger.

“You’re not staying.” I told it, but of course that was a lie. She stayed for the rest of that week and for every week after. It’s been three years since that day, and every time I think back on it, I remember Archer’s tiny mouth mewing and Lana’s giant smile. She knew from the very beginning. My special strange dog.