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On Thursday, January 12, I was driving to San Francisco to join my friends
in a rehearsal for our sword dancing team. I was thinking about my recently
deceased rabbit and "processing" his departure. (Californians love to
"process" things.) Traffic slowed to a crawl. A baby could have crawled
through the toll plaza faster than this traffic. I noticed a man up ahead
pop up out of his car and get back in. I figured he had a wedgie to
adjust. Then, another man did the same thing and I saw a gray flash.
I hoped it was just litter blowing across the road, but I had a bad feeling
it was an animal. I shifted lanes to get a better look. I did, in fact,
see a kitten standing on the narrow shoulder, every hair standing on end.
It was one of those microsecond decisions. I knew I would not get hurt,
traffic would not be significantly delayed and I could not live with myself
if I did not stop my car and pursue this kitten. I stopped, got out, leaving
the door open, and ran along the shoulder. The kitten took off. He darted
under a white car. I waved that car to a stop. A trucker yelled, "Hey
what are you doing?" I said, "Someone tossed a kitten out of a car!"
I really did think that is what happened. For a brief second, I had all
three lanes stopped, but the kitten ran to the left side of the road and
I took off after him again.
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Then, he disappeared. I stood for a moment, reeling. Then, a woman
in an SUV told me he was under the car I was standing next to. The
man driving the car had his window open, and I asked him to stay
put. It took a while to find the kitten, but the woman in the SUV
directed me and I found him sitting on the back tire of the car. I
reached in and was greeted with a hiss and a big swipe of tiny
claws. Ow. I asked the driver of the car if he had a blanket or
coat or something I could wrap my hands in to get the cat out. He
handed me his female passenger's lovely grey scarf. I think it was
cashmere. I wrapped my hands and grabbed the kitten. He bit me
like a little stapler. I had to suck it up. If I dropped him, he
would take off and die. I scruffed the kitten and handed the scarf
back to the driver, thanking him.
The kitten became a docile ball of fluff, as I knew he would. The reflex
to go docile and curl up when grabbed by the scruff is deeply ingrained in all cats. I ran to my car,
sat down, and gently tossed the kitten onto the floor. I figured he'd
hide under a seat. I shut the door and started moving. I turned the
light on so I could see him and noticed he left a lovely stream of urine
across my jeans and in my cup holder. My finger, which he had bitten,
was bleeding steadily. I sucked on my finger and called 911.
I have two cats. I love them. Its the perfect kitty ecosystem. I did not
want another cat and I was amped up with adrenaline. The whole rescue must
have taken less than a minute, but I was pretty charged up.
Animal Care and Control |
I started off with "Hi, this isn't exactly a screaming emergency, but
its a minor one. I think someone tossed a kitten out of their car..."
After a brief conversation, she advised me to go to "The SPCA in
San Francisco, since you're heading there anyway." She called them, I
called them, and I arranged to drop him off there.
The kitten had other ideas. I got to Animal Care and Control (not the SPCA
as the dispatcher had thought) and the kennel attendant attempted to help
me get the frightened little mite out from under my driver's seat. He shot
up into the dashboard. It took a while to find him. I peered up into the
workings of my dashboard until I saw little bits of grey fluff peeking out
of a bracket that holds the steering column in place.I asked for gloves and the
kennel attendant handed me thin latex
gloves. (She probably uses them for sanitary purposes when tidying up
after animals.) I asked for thicker ones and was handed what looked like a falconer's
glove. Um. I could not even bend my fingers in that glove. I so do not want
to meet whatever they need that glove for. Ever.
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Our attempt failed, so I was given the on duty officer's cell phone number
and advised to call later when she was back at ACC. I went to my dance
rehearsal quite late. I had a friend call my colleagues to let them know
why I was late. Good friends worry and they were starting to get worried.
One of my dance team friends was very intrigued about the kitten and
offered to come with me to ACC and expressed interest in adtoping him.
I could not believe my luck. Not only do I get to rescue a kitten, but
I got to find a home for him within a couple of hours.
At the end of the dance rehearsal, I called the ACC officer's number and
she told me to come by. Kerri got in the car with me and we drove over to
ACC. The officer waved us into the garage and we got to work. I told her
about the scratching and biting and advised her to get some gloves on.
Let me pause for a minute and say how glad I am that the officer is a
woman. The guys probably would have taken my car apart. I have watched
Animal Planet's "Animal Cops" series and guys take stuff apart. Also,
I found out later that this officer is Andrea Runge, who did, in fact,
appear on Animal Planet's "Animal Cops".
What ensued was fairly comical. She and I took turns doing what I call
car yoga. There is nothing dignified in being upside down next to the
pedals of a car, wrestling an extremely irritated kitten. Kerri laughed
out loud at one point, because the noises coming out of that dashboard
sounded like they came from a much larger animal. We chatted about
the Animal Planet series, feral kittens, and life in general. I really
liked Andrea. She was always calm and very sweet. She cooed at the kitten,
even though he did not appreciate it. Eventually, he was positioned in
such a way that she goosed him with the eraser end of a pencil and he
turned around to stare at her, which let her pull him out.
Kerri held out a towel and Andrea swiftly wrapped him in it. This is called
a burrito. He relaxed and closed his eyes. Kerri told Andrea she wanted to
adopt the kitten, especially if it was male. Andrea examined him and determined
he was a male and he had an upper respiratory infection. Also, he had corneal
damage. I took a moment to pet his grimy fur and coo at him. We all did.
Alas, because he bit me, he had to go under observation for 10 days. Back
in medieval times (my childhood), biters would be dissected to look for
rabies. Nowadays, they observe them for 10 days. I was assured the odds of him
having rabies were very, very long. He was clearly frightened, nothing more.
We joked around about what to name him and I offered "Nimitz" as a potential
name. Kerri and Andrea laughed and Kerri announced it a perfect name.
We did the paperwork and Kerri and I gave our phone numbers. We were the CIP
numbers for him. We looked at him in his box to say goodbye and he tucked
his ears back. Andrea said he was 10 weeks old and probably feral. This
concerned me because kittens need to be socialized by 12 weeks or they just
don't make good pets. Andrea said things got quiet on the graveyard shift
and said she'd work with him.
What ensued was many days of red tape. According to the laws in San
Francisco, the cat would be held for observation and then offered to the
SPCA or offered for adoption. They gave him veterinary care. His 10 day
hold started on the 12th. His first vet visit was the 16th. He was put
on antibiotics twice a day. Instead of offering him to the SPCA or
releasing him, they started another quarantine for the SPCA. In the interim,
I contacted the "Give Me Shelter" cat rescue to put a third CIP number on
him, just in case they could not get me or Kerri on the phone. There
had been a distemper outbreak in the kitten room (I saw the sign later on)
and he was still being held.
Kerri was out getting books on taming kittens, introducing cats, and
cat lore. She continued pursuing getting Nimitz out of the Joint.
It was hard to get information. Some clerks were very forthcoming and others
were guarded and suspicious. Why would someone who was bitten want to keep
the animal who bit her?
Both of us started getting really impatient. I did an end run and contacted the
SPCA. They could release him by saying they would not take him. We went back
and forth until finally, a behaviorhist went over to look at him and
called me. The kitten was tamed and very sweet and I could contact the kennel
supervisor to clear an adoption.
I went to get him because Kerri's hours were the same as ACCs. He'd be mired
in the SPCA system if we waited until the weekend. I went in and dug in my
heels. Finally, a clerk said, "Oh yes, Eric said it was OK." I went up to
visit the kitten and he was a little guarded, but warmed up quickly. He
wanted to sit on my shoulder and nuzzle my ear and purr. His coat was clean
and he was so sweet and cute. He still had the clouding on his eye, but
he did not look or sound sick. I ran into one of the women from the Give Me
Shelter group. She assured me that they'd had their eye on Nimitz too. I
was so worried, but he had a lot of guardian angels. She then went to pet
another unfortunate stray who was in the isolation ward.
I signed off on him, paid the fee and was told they would call me after he
was neutered. I was told to go back up with the microchip kit. The man
who let me into the isolation ward met me and took the kitten for a chipping.
I admired the exotics room, with the bunnies, budgies, iguana, guinea pigs
and other pocket pets. The man came out with Nimitz and I petted the kitty
goodbye. I went down the hall and turned around briefly. The man walked
toward Isolation with Nimitz on his shoulder, stopped, and turned right
into the kitty play room - the "Get Acquainted" room. I don't think this
cat was bored.
What happened next was very unexpected. The following day, I was
called by Andrea. I did not at all expect to hear from her. She
sounded very cheerful. It turns out that she did, indeed, play
with him every night when she was on graveyard. She told me about
his favorite toy and what a darling cat he was. I thought she was
only being polite when she said she would look in on him, but she
really did spend time with him. I thanked her profusely for taking
that time. She said she understood how frustrating all the waiting
must have been, but admitted she really enjoyed all those
nighttime play sessions.
An hour later, a man called and said
Nimitz was ready to go home. I contacted Kerri and we arranged to
go together to ACC to pick him up. At ACC, I met the woman who tried
to do the first intake. We chatted a bit and went up to meet Gretchen,
who the SPCA behaviorist told me about. Gretchen told me that Nimitz
started off hissing and spitting,but she had to medicate him twice
a day and "worked with him" to make the process easier. We waited for
Nimitz and I watched a shelter worker walk by with a purebred Abyssinian
cat. Wow. He took the kitty into the lost pets room. If that kitty
does not get found soon, he or she will be adopted very quickly.
We bundled Nimitz into the car and got to Kerri's. He was totally
fascinated with the room set up for him, especially the windowsill.
We spent a few hours playing with him and his coat became even softer.
He used the scratching post and had some kitten food. He purred while
eating. I met Nimitz's feline housemate, Mouse, who looks like she could
be his mother. We celebrated the day with a sushi dinner. When we got
back, Nimitz had hidden himself in a tiny corner of the closet. I
found him and scruffed him and pulled him out. What a contrast to the
half hour ordeal in the dashboard a few weeks before. He was in my
arms and purring within a minute or two.
We agreed that the quarantine and red tape was annoying, but the delay
was actually a good thing. The kitten was sick and feral and really needed
to be handled by very experienced people. They were able to medicate and
tame him in a way that an amateur could not. And now, Nimitz will get
to live a long life as a spoiled housecat with a really neat story.
Although he was only my pet for a couple of days, he will, in a way, always
be my Freeway Kitty.
