Catching My Feral Kitten

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Three years ago on a warm and breezy autumn evening, I heard what I first thought was the cry of a kildeer in the far end of the backyard. As I sat at the dining room table I soon realized that it wasn't a bird. It sounded more and more like a kitten in distress, and I had to investigate. I had been secretly wishing for a kitten, and maybe the cat distribution system had finally worked in my favor. 

My cat Panda Bear was 13 years old, and the dreaded thought that he wouldn't always be around had crossed my mind more than once. Having a kitten or another cat to care for would soften the inevitable blow. I'll save that story for another post. 

Anyway, after digging through one of two kitchen junk drawers for a working flashlight, I ventured outside as the sun sank below the trees and further darkened the landscape. Following the sound to the far corner of the one-acre yard brought me to a scrubby-looking bush and thick weeds in the neighbor's yard.

I bent down to see the source of the sound and was met with an adorable little wide-eyed face that was laden with fear. It was in fact a kitten, and I told myself that I had to catch it! Coyotes and other predators would succeed if I didn't, and I couldn't let that happen. 

Rescuing a Feral Kitten
Mitsy on the Night She Was Rescued

The little agouti-colored feral tabby wasn't running away, at least not yet. On the contrary, she stayed put and continued her rendition. She wanted her mother, but momma wasn't coming. The only thing that kept me from scooping her up immediately was the neighbor's wire fence. 

To avoid trespassing and arousing suspicion I felt it was best to ring the neighbor's doorbell and inform them of my backlot activities. Not only did they agree that I could enter their property to try and capture the little kitten, but they also came out to help. 

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Whenever we would approach she would run just out of reach. After several minutes the neighbor gave up, but I couldn't stop trying. It would be a death sentence if I did. 

Although it was completely dark at this point I continued trying desperately to catch the feral kitten, and she continued running further and further into the cut cornfield. I had to do something to stop her since I was hot, tired, and at my wit's end. 

I had the idea to use the flashlight to catch the feral kitten. To stop her from running I shined the light over her head and onto the ground just in front of her as she ran. The light confused her and slowed her down just long enough for me to grab her. At first, I was afraid that I had squeezed her too hard, but I finally had her in my arms!

As I walked back to the house completely worn out from our game of cat and mouse (or cat and human), my new feral friend aggressively bit my shirt. It was her attempt at escaping whatever fate awaited, but little did she know she was headed for a great life. 

In my next entry, I'll explain how I took care of my little feral kitten before our first vet visit. Come back for more entertaining, heartwarming, and funny stories about Mitsy. We would also eventually adopt another feline member of the family, but I'll introduce you to Teddy later. 

Bye for now, 

Kim  

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