The Abandoned Kittens
Lately, I find myself lacking the desire to write like I used to simply because I am finishing my Bachelor’s degree and have been writing papers for classes. I started at SNHU in May of last year and will finish this December — I could have finished sooner if I would have received enough financial aid to afford to go full time.
I plan to continue with SNHU to get my MBA, after briefly considering UMass Global and deciding against them. Let’s just say that someone with UMass Global gave me wrong information and messed up my financial aid for my last semester with SNHU, which caused me to lose my Pell Grant. It’s fixed now, and SNHU has been great, so I decided to continue with them for my Master’s degree.
We had a rough summer filled with worry over our older dog. It started out as a bit of incontinence, so she was prescribed Proin. Then she had some sort of episode where she could barely walk — that was when she was diagnosed with stage two kidney disease. The emergency vet we saw thought it was hypertension from high blood pressure, which can be caused by the medication. Our dog was then taken off the Proin and put on a special (and expensive) kidney diet. Then she had another episode that was much worse — we actually thought she was having a stroke. She was diagnosed with idiopathic vestibular disease, which is common in older dogs. She has since recovered from that and is doing really well, but she has her good days and her bad days.
Needless to say, I was worried a lot over the summer for fear of losing my beloved dog. And since I am still unemployed, the extra $2200 in vet bills did not help my anxiety and stress.
On September 19th, my dog was insistent that we go to the park behind our rental complex. We usually go everyday: it helps her arthritis and helps with my joint issues. It was warmer than I like that Thursday, but we had skipped the day before, and my dog is such a good girl that it’s hard to tell her no. Off we went to the park, my spoiled princess on her 20-foot leash and me trailing behind her. We took a different path than we usually do, sort of wandering our way backwards from normal.
As we walked through the gathering of pine trees in the park, I could see something in the distance. A branch? Or maybe a groundhog? I had to know, so we headed in that direction. Eventually, I could tell it was definitely an animal, and then could tell it was a cat.
Figuring this was just someone’s cat chilling in the park, I headed that way because, well, I love cats. The closer we got to it, the more I thought it looked more like a cat with kittens. I assumed they would run off when we approached, but the only movement was from the one sitting up who crouched down as we walked closer. I soon realized that these were three kittens, and they were in distress.
My first thought was “what do I do?” They were all tabby kittens: one was orange — the one who sat up to get my attention — and the other two were mostly grey. The orange one was drooling and all three of them looked wet. My dog, who is a Border Collie/Labrador mix, remained calm and seemed almost as concerned as I was about these poor babies. Even though I am the animal expert in the family, I still called my mom, mostly to think out loud. The kittens looked old enough to be away from their mother, but obviously they could not survive on their own, and certainly not after laying in the hot sun. I was immediately thankful that the red-tailed hawks who frequent the park were not there that day.
I apologized to my dog that we had to cut our park trip short and rushed her back home so I could fetch my Lowe’s garden cart. That seemed the easiest way to get these guys to a safe place with food and water. Immediately, one of the grey kittens crawled under the cart and into the shade it provided. The orange one followed, but the third kitten remained unmoved. I picked them up and placed them in the cart, and then headed back home.
As soon as we arrived on our patio, the kittens retreated into my garden and into the shade of my Nikko hydrangea. I brought them water, which they desperately needed, and brought them a can of food. The orange kitten, whom I had already named “Weasley,” was hesitant and let the grey ones go first. I debated what to do about them and tried to call the local Humane Society, who did not answer — they never do. And of course I was texting my husband, mom, and friend pictures of these sweet kittens.
Weasley was really struggling with the heat, so I took him inside, holding him the entire time to keep him safe from my two cats. I had determined that Weasley was male, as I suspected, and the other two were female. The girls were doing fine, with the one rolling around on the concrete patio playing with a leaf. Once Weasley was breathing normal again, I took him back outside to his sisters and realized that I had not yet eaten that day.
A thought occurred to me while I tried to finish my turkey sandwich: could my Ring camera have caught the person who dumped these kittens? I opened the app and scrolled back through the footage from the camera in my garden. Sure enough, there they were: two men carrying these three kittens to the park and then returning without them.
Based on the timestamp, these kittens had been in the sun for about two hours before I found them. I was so glad that I slept late that day, and then fell asleep watching the news at noon. If not, we would have been in and out of the park before the kittens were dumped, and we probably would have found them the next day, dying or already dead. That would have upset me much more than the distress in which I found them.
The worst part is that we live in a townhouse complex with over a hundred units — these men could have dropped the kittens near anyone’s apartment. They could have dumped them in my garden and I would have helped them. But no, they chose to dump them in the park, and not even in the shade. My dog and I love the park because of the old trees and wildlife, and yet these assholes left the kittens in the sun. Or maybe they dumped them in the brook and the kittens made their way across the grass searching for their mother before they collapsed. That would explain why they were wet.
Either way, there is no doubt that these men are loathsome assholes. Who would dump three kittens in a field? And in a red-tailed hawk hunting ground… The treatment of animals tells a lot about one’s personality and ethics. Words cannot express my disgust for these two men.
I hurried up and finished my sandwich, now feeling sick with rage and sadness. I grabbed a box and went outside to gather up the kittens — I did not want them finding their way back home (not that they could), and I certainly did not want these men to do this again to them. I had my suspicions where these kittens came from, but I could not be sure. Not yet.
Because I already had cats, I didn’t want to let them loose in my house for fear of disease and parasites, so I took them to my basement, just as I had with my cat Sadie when she decided we were her new family. These kittens were now under my protection. I just wished that my friend and I had cleared out the basement like we planned a few weeks earlier.
I then contacted the police and told them I had footage of the men taking them to the park. Unfortunately, my camera did not catch them actually dropping them there and leaving, but the officer said that if I had footage of the men coming back without them, they could maybe press charges. I have since found out where one of the men lives, meaning these kittens were from a pregnant female cat I grabbed months ago thinking that she was lost.
After learning that the lost cat was already found, and after confirming she was not another missing cat, and at her insistence, I let her go back outside. She wanted me to follow her, so I did, and she led me to where she lived. I confirmed with the people that she was in fact their cat, feeling disgusted that they had an unspayed female and an intact male in the same household — I had met the male cat before when, as with the female, I thought he was lost. He was an impressive cat, appearing to serve as a babysitter for a small child who was often outside alone. I hoped the female would remember me and eventually bring me her kittens, but I have not seen her lately. I now know that these kittens that were left to die were in fact her kittens.
My husband was at work during this event, but I was keeping him updated via text messages. What I didn’t know was that he was already trying to find them homes. He has always said that he is more of a dog person, and though he loves our cats, he is just not a crazy cat person like me. Plus, we have pet limits at our complex, and of course we could not afford to take in kittens if we were allowed. Not after the expensive summer with our dog, though, to be honest, she is definitely worth it.
A friend of ours who we game with had recently lost a cat, so my husband asked him if he wanted a kitten. We lived an hour away from him, so it was easily possible to get a kitten to him if he wanted one. He jumped on it, wanting the orange one — the one I kind of wanted to keep. But I knew that our friend could provide a good home and that my little Weasley would love it there. Now we just needed to find homes for the other two.
Later that evening, I asked my husband if he wanted to see the kittens. “Sure,” he said, and so down to the basement we went. The grey and black kitten took to him right away, climbing all over him and checking out his beard. Maybe she knew what would happen, because my husband then said he wanted to keep her and started thinking up a name. She became “Callisto,” after one of Jupiter’s moons. The other grey kitten received a temporary name of “Io.” We played with them for about an hour before heading back upstairs while they ate a late dinner.
The next day we made plans to take little Weasley to his permanent home on Saturday. He did not enjoy the drive to our friend’s house, and when we were about 20 minutes from our destination, he had an accident in his carrier. I had not planned for this, and my husband does not handle pet poop smells very well, so we stopped in a little convenience store parking lot where I could clean it up with the paper towels we had in the car. Thankfully, the store sold generic “disinfecting wipes,” so I could at least wipe the cat pee off of my hands. Weasley was going to get a bath upon our arrival anyway to kill some of the fleas — the magic of Dawn dish soap. After two scrub downs, Weasley had a new name and was playing with our friend’s daughter on their enclosed porch, waiting until he could join the rest of the household.
We still didn’t have a home for the last kitten, Io. We still don’t and have changed her name to Lyra — my husband was reading off a bunch of astronomical and Greek myth names, and that one stuck with me because of the character in His Dark Materials. I briefly had settled on Xena since we have a Callisto, but the kitten just didn’t seem like a warrior princess to me. She is extremely calm, but likes to explore, and she very much reminds me of Lyra in the Philip Pullman series.
We get the same story from everyone we ask about taking Lyra: I can’t take her, but I might know of someone who can. She is maybe the calmest kitten I have ever met, similar to my Luigi in 1992. She is the exact opposite from her sister Callisto, who could compete with the Energizer bunny. Honestly, I would love to keep them both, but our financial situation is not good, and our rental rules will not allow it. Oh to be financially stable with a house…
Even though we cannot afford it, both kittens will go to the vet on Monday to get a checkup, tested for FIV and Feline Leukemia, and will get their first vaccinations. Our only option is to use my All Pet card at our regular vet, which will put us further in debt, but I could not leave these kittens to die, and I have been unable to find a home for Lyra. No rescue will take her, and all of the low-cost vet options are overwhelmed.
I have setup a GoFundMe to help cover the costs for veterinary care. If you can afford to help, even if it’s just a couple dollars, it would be very much appreciated.
As of this writing, Weasley has already bonded with both kids and both cats at his new home — he is enjoying life the best way possible, and they are all incredibly happy. Callisto and Lyra cannot fully join our household until after they are cleared by a vet, but I have been introducing them to our other pets and letting them explore.
Today is the first day that I am letting them run around the house rather than confining them to the same room or floor that I am on. My other cats are not happy about it, with my black cat, DiNozzo, hiding from everyone and my Sadie making sure the kittens understand that she needs space. Our dog was afraid at first and would not even stay in the same room, but she is adjusting to them while giving them plenty of space. She learned when we adopted DiNozzo that some cats do not like to feel crowded, and while DiNozzo absolutely adores her now, she is still cautious with all cats.
Until we find Lyra a permanent home, if we ever do, she and Callisto are enjoying being kittens together, play fighting and exploring everywhere, including places that they are learning are off limits. I had forgotten how exhausting kittens can be, but also how wonderful. My husband has never had a kitten and, to be honest, I have been ready for one since my boy Loki passed in 2022. Callisto reminds me so much of him, though I hope she doesn’t take 10 years to calm down like he did. It was worth it in the end — Loki had such a great personality and kept the peace between DiNozzo and Sadie. Even if Callisto is a long-term troublemaker like Loki, I am still glad to give her a loving home.
I just hope that karma takes care of the men who so heartlessly threw away these sweet kittens, hopefully in the form of animal cruelty charges thanks to my Ring camera and a short walk in the park.
If you can, please donate to help cover the cost of veterinary care, including FIV/FeLV testing, parasite check/treatment, vaccinations, and spay surgeries.
