The Cat Whisperer

     We were in Mentone, Alabama for Thanksgiving. A visit to Mentone is never complete without a trip to McKay's Used Bookstore in Chattanooga.  After loading up on books on Saturday, we stopped by the Bi-Lo in Trenton, Georgia to load up on MORE food on the way back to the cabin. As we were passing the BP gas station, Rick said,"Look, kittens..."  Yes, the words did come out of his mouth.  I saw just one little orange streak out of the corner of my eye. "Stop the car, Dad,stop the car right now." We pulled over... 

      B,SG, Rick and I got out of the car. It was gray and about 45 degrees outside.  Behind the BP was an overgrown bramble and trash pit- rough combination.  We spotted two tiny kittens.  I went in to ask the clerk a  question.  "We just saw kittens behind the station.  They are your mousers, right?"

"Naw, people dump'em.  I try to feed 'em if I can get away from the counter." 

 I thought that was what she was going to say.  I asked for cat food.  There was none in the store, but  two packages of tuna fish looked like they might be effective.  

     Back outside, Rick and the girls were studying the situation.  Several attempts to coax them out by patting the ground and calling them didn't work. They meowed and watched us but would not come out.  There was no way to go in without being ripped to shreds. The praying commenced! I got milk and a cup out of the car, handed them to Rick and watched him morph into the Cat Whisperer.  He drizzled a line of milk out of the nasty bramble patch and the smallest kitten came out.  Grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, Rick handed him to me. Pitiful, bedraggled little cat... The girls put him in a box with a disposable dish full of tuna, and the purr that emanated shortly afterwards was enough to jiggle the down jacket over the top of the box. Ecstatic at how easy that was we knew kitty number two would amble out shortly.  

     No dice!  The stubborn cat would look at us, cry and then walk to the other side of the brambles always out of reach.  The milk did not tempt him at all.  I cracked open the tuna.  He would come forward then retreat...for 45 agonizing minutes.  Did I mention it was 45 degrees outside, getting dark and the temperature was dropping.  Plus, we had one kitten, two girls and my mother in law in the car.  No way we could go without number two! He finally took pity on us and allowed Rick to grab him by an impressive over/under maneuver through the bramble . Though it may be that by then we were  covered head to foot in dirt and tuna and  smelled better to him. Popping him in the box, he joined his brother in eating and purring. 

     Rescuing them was nothing to the chore of naming them. In out house pet names are literary or historical.  The lists of brothers and or pairs  ranged from Stanley and Livingston to Ernie and Bert. Orville and Wilbur appeared as well in a nod to our new Ohio address. There was a moment of panic when we considered that one or both might be girls.  Who knew you could determine the sex of a kitten by checking online? The internet is a brilliant thing! In a nod to his cat whispering skill, the children graciously allowed Rick to name them. We had to wait 48 hours for them to tell Rick their names.  Allow me to present...the Dukes of Hazard.

Bo

Luke

Life is good when you are warm, dry, full and sharing your fleas with humans!