A few years ago my dear friend N and I were producing events for a major car company, marketing their product at sporting events towards an active crowd.
On this particular day, we set up at a skydive facility outside of Chicago, our vehicles neighboring both the landing pad for the parachuters and the helicopter pad. Amply active, this was no place for “delicacy”.
The first time I heard the cry, I didn’t know what to make of it. I went about my business after looking around a bit; I swore I had heard an animal of some sort. At the second whimper, I saw something duck under the tire of the car, and coaxed it out.
Though bloodied on its nose and mouth, the *cutest* little kitten, terrified and crying, was huddled against the wheel of our car. I fetched it out and held it awhile, then poured some water for it in the trunk and cleaned it up a bit. My heart sank for the poor thing, as the taking off of the helicopters and planes, the running of the skydivers and the whole environment created a bustle and commotion that just terrified this little girl.
Immediately, I felt a huge sense of responsibility for her. I also knew I couldn’t keep her long and feared taking her into my home, because I have a territorial cat of my own who’s unable to be vaccinated and has already run out one stray I attempted to adopt. But I saw no other cats around, knew I couldn’t leave her there and knew she needed medical attention for her injuries. So the task became finding her an owner.
There were plenty of hearts that went out to her that day. People stopped by to help watch and care for her, but none were able to actually give her a home. N and I called a shelter we’d been working with, but they were closed. As the day went on, the kitten was plenty pitied and admired, but still had no where to go to be cared for.
Finally, a wonderful couple who ran a supply tent nearby came over to see what all the fuss was about. And even though they were from out of state and had a seven hour drive ahead of them, the kitten won what were clearly good-hearts of both Chelsea and Leszek.
And today, “Bazia” is strong, healthy, and living with her feline brothers and sisters in Connecticut, far away from the scary place she was born. I am so happy we were able to help her, and that she found a family to be her forever home.
Now she just needs to grow into her tail…