One August afternoon, I started to hear something...it sounded like a cat...crying? Of course, I immediately had to go and check it out. That's when I first saw her. So tiny-- a little grey bundle of fur sitting on the steps outside crying her heart out. Doh!!! The cuteness was something to behold. My heart just tore, hearing this tiny little kitten mewing so loudly. I didn't approach-- just watched. And when I couldn't take it anymore, I ran inside and wrote an e-mail to Keith to vent my frustration. He immediately responded with something to the effect of, "We have three kitties already!"
I sent off another mail telling him that I was good, and would never do anything like run out and pick up the saddest, crying kitten from outside. And I didn't. I was strong. Though the fierce mewing continued, I just sat inside and listened (with only an occasional peek through the door). When Keith came home a few hours later, she was still there, under the stairs. He saw her and immediately thought of his words back before we took Zelda in-- the ones about grey kittens (read Chapter 2). We went to dinner, sure that by the time we came back that the tiny one's mama would return for her in the darkness. During dinner, from out of nowhere, Keith named her "Moonbeam." And when we arrioved home, there she was still-- alone and crying.
We both stood and watched as she tried to walk a little. But she was so small, she could barely stand up and walk. She more just stumbled about. We remembered Keith's words from before, and started to discuss bringing a new member to the household. I stepped out a little, still unsure. Suddenly, the kitten starts walking toward me, looking up. I just swooped downward and picked her up.
That was it. We couldn't put her back now! Besides, it was clear her mama wasn't coming back. So it was up to us to be her new Kitty Mama and Kitty Papa. Keith rushed to prepare the bathroom, and we put down a heating pad and blanket and set her in. At this point, our feelings were still troubled and unsure. Could we really provide a good home for yet another cat? That's when we heard the "fwsssht, fwsssht" noise from the bedroom. We opened the door to the quilting room and saw the water spraying down from the ceiling and the wall. Was it a sign?!? What did this mean? An omen of doom? Did we make the right choice?
In the end, nothing of value in the room was damaged. We kept the Moonbeam. When we took her to the vet the next day, we learned how to bottle feed, give a flea bath, and that our new kitten was 12 ounces, and almost 4 weeks old. Now we are one big, happy kitty family!