Stoney, S., The statue
"The fate of animals is of greater importance to me than the fear of appearing ridiculous; it is indissolubly connected with the fate of men." ~ Emile Zola (French Novelist, Critic and Activist. 1840-1902)The fall of 2003 was a time of real stress with uncertainty about work, Nyssa's college, upcoming surgery, selling a house and getting ready for a high school graduation and a move half-way across the country.
One Saturday I stopped to get gas in my van at the Creekstone Chevron station near my home in Mississippi. It's one of those modern stations with fourteen pumping stations and a convenience store that charges twice the amount you would pay at a Winn Dixie for soft drinks and bread. Inside you can also buy Krispy Kreme doughnuts, get chicken at the fast food counter and leave your dry cleaning for pick up. Of course they have a car wash, these days most do.
I had finished filling the tank and was pulling out of the station. I had to stop to let a pick-up truck go in front. He had just pulled out of the car wash and water was draining from the truck bed and bumper. Behind the truck was a tiny black and white "thing". I say "thing" because you couldn't tell what it was. It took me a few seconds to figure out that this was a small animal and it looked like it was running after the truck; running out of the car wash. Maybe the poor little thing fell out of the pick-up or maybe they dumped it in the car wash.
Did I stop? Of course I did. All I had in the van was my white lab coat. The poor thing was just sitting there in front of the exit, another car was already in the bay and the highway was certain death, so I scooped the small calico up. She was too scared and lost to run. I had her back in the van wrapped in my lab coat before I ever thought "What am I going to do with her?" We already had six spoiled cats and I had already planned to move them to Virginia in only a month. I couldn't keep another cat.
I decided to figure that out later. Right now I needed a towel to dry her off and the nearest person I knew was Michele. She lived in a subdivision behind the station. Now, Michele loves cats, but she's VERY allergic so I was just going to borrow a towel and take the calico home. But she invited us in and her little girl, Miss Priss immediately fell for the kitten. So did Buster, her old Boston terrier. Buster is not completely right in the head, but he is sweet and he was lonely for company during the day. Of course, the kitten purred and curled herself up on Michele's lap to dry, falling asleep. I didn't mean for her to keep her, just let us use a towel. Really, now, she is allergic. Michele had all sorts of plans on how to keep her allergies at bay and by the time the "Best Husband" got home, it was settled; three votes for and he just gave in for the fourth vote. Yes, Buster had a vote.
She had to be named "Stoney" because she survived the Creekstone car wash. She and Miss Priss have fun playing and she teases Buster and he is so happy to have a playmate that he doesn't mind her tactics; but in reality, Stoney belongs to Michele. She wants to sit on her lap, on the back of the sofa near her and she responds to her call. Stoney has a marvelous home; safe from the outside hazards and full of love.
A kitten who survives the suds and spray of a car wash deserves no less, right?
Stoney dressed for the holidays.
Check out Friday's Ark this week and on Sunday, be sure to visit the Carnival of the Cats; hosted this Halloween weekend by Watermark.
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