Lost, and found

The last thing we needed was another cat.

I mean, we already have a 1-year-old Ragdoll who stays with us free of charge. Her name is Halo, and she's a handful. Literally. She's 13 pounds of lean muscle and curiosity, and she's still growing. And because I'm 65 years old, she's probably going to be my last cat.

Plus, Kim and I have a lengthy history of catlodging: Pewter and Schmidt, Mosey and Do-Little, and now Halo. All together, our feline lineage covers more than 30 years of cat care.

But I was outside my house the other day, in the backyard, when I heard the ominous cries. Uh-oh. There, huddled next to my shed, was a frightened tortoiseshell kitten. I figured it was about six weeks old. Maybe younger. I didn't know if it was feral or abandoned, or if it had cleverly planned an escape from its litter.

But here it was. Uh-oh.

Kenda Strickland poses with her new friend...

 What now? I couldn't leave her in the wild: although we live within the city limits, dogs occasionally roam the neighborhood. There are also birds of prey, like hawks and owls, on combat air patrol above our house. I couldn't leave the kitten to deal with that. It at least deserved a chance. What to do?

So naturally, I went into panic mode. It's what I do best. And that meant there was, logically, only one place left for me to turn: I called Kim at work.

I explained to her about the kitten I'd found, and what are we going to do? Keep it? Take it to the vet? Take it to the shelter? What? What?

I could hear Kim take a breath. I figured she was counting to 10. "Take a picture of it and put it on Facebook," said Kim. Then she would ask around at work.

Well, that was easy. I did what she said, and within minutes, there was interest all over Facebook. Awww, it's so cute. Awww, it's adorable. Awww, it's yours.

 I had my doubts. It's never easy to find somebody to take a lost cat because, well, cats are everywhere (here's where I make my plea for spaying or neutering). But as the day turned out, one of Kim's co-workers, Kenda Strickland, offered to take the kitten home on a trial basis. That was Tuesday. It's now Sunday. Yes.

Kenda's young son, Seth, has really taken to the cat and even has given it the name of Melody. Apparently, he's become the kitten's primary caregiver while his sister, Kennedy, provides support. There's still work ahead, of course. Melody needs a complete physical to make sure she is indeed a healthy cat. Somebody is going to have to endure litter training. And she'll need to be spayed.

But Kenda says that Melody is a treasure, affectionate and complete with a very loud motor for a kitten so small. Melody, by turn, is probably grateful she doesn't have to cower and hide and wonder from where her next meal is coming.

Everybody got lucky on this one. I really like the way this is turning out.