It’s a little past one o’clock in the morning, and we are coming home after a nice walk on Ocean Drive, when we hear faint squealing. Right outside the police department, across the street from our house, stands a tall, young, Latin-looking policeman, holding something so small, it can’t even be seen. Lost in his huge muscular arms, the tiny peach colored fuzzy thing is squealing like mad. It’s a baby kitten!

“Where did it come from?”

“Something was squealing in the bushes,” – says the cop, “I thought it was a possum trespassing on police property, so I was about to call the animal removal people, but I went to investigate first, and here it is – a baby kitty.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Well, unless someone bails it out, our rule book says we have to take it to a pound.”

We heard the “p” word! There was a momentary hesitation: how would the two big cats, siblings who grew up together, do everything together, and rule the house together, take to the baby intruder? But the alternative was too terrible to contemplate! I took her into my arms and held her like a baby. The poor thing was trembling, but as soon as she felt the warmth of my body, she calmed down and went to sleep – like a baby.

At first we didn’t know whether it was a girl or a boy, so we came up with two names. The first priority, though, was to feed the baby. When we gave her a dish with kitten food, she almost inhaled it! We have never heard a cat making sounds like that while eating. She was ravenous – she must have not had anything to eat for quite a while, poor baby!

Read the full original post here authored by Marc-Andre Runcie-Unger. You can visit her blog here.

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