But here’s something much more interesting than news about the state of my upper respiratory system. We haven’t even left on this trip yet and I can’t wait to get back, because as soon as we come home again, we get to have a new kitten.
We don’t have a car any more: we gave it up a couple of years ago. Mostly we use our local taxi service to get around. But sometimes there are errands that are better done with a car we drive ourselves — like taking our big microwave up to Peter’s mum’s house just now — and when that happens, we go up to Dublin and rent something.
This last time Peter felt like splurging a little, so we rented a BMW. A very handsome machine, one which provoked some amusement from the neighbors. (“Hey, wouldja ever look at the Beemer the Trekkies got!”) It was a car that was very easy to get used to. And it had excellent brakes, which turns out to have been a good thing…
We were driving up the main road from the local “shopping town”, Baltinglass, when just ahead of us we saw something running across the road, low, direct and fast. Both of us at first thought it was a rat. But as we got closer, both of us realized that rats weren’t black and white like that… Peter hit the brakes.
He put the car’s emergency flashers on, jumped out of the car and went around behind it. There in the grass of the verge, staring at us with some bemusement, was a five-week-old kitten. Black, white paws, a few white hairs inside the ears: blue eyes. Very, very small to have gone across the road so directly, at such speed. Peter picked the kitten up. Without hesitation it (she, I’m betting: don’t ask me why) climbed up onto Peter’s shoulder, cuddled down and started to go to sleep.
Of course we took her home. (Her introduction to the other cats was a source of amusement for some hours. Goodman, a big white ex-tom, and Mr. Squeak, his “uncle”, a Norwegian Forest Cat, looked at this tiny thing toddling along the floor toward them, and were united in their response: they fled in terror. Both of them went out the cat door in a matter of seconds, and hid in the hedge in the back yard.) A call to the lady who keeps the cats for us while we’re traveling introduced a complication: the kitten couldn’t stay with her until it had had its shots and they’d “taken”.
But we found a way around that. The kitten’s being fostered for us at the local ISPCA branch. They’ll make sure it gets its shots and whatever veterinary care might be needed. Then when we get home, the kitten comes home with us.
Her name is Beemer.
[tags]kitten, cat, Beemer, BMW, Goodman, Squeak[/tags]