The faint sound of mewing alerted the troops to the presence of a terrified little kitten hiding under the concrete steps at work. Luckily Linda and Harri were both there to commence rescue procedures. They put out some canned cat food and the kitten ventured out to eat it. And eventually Anastasija was able to catch her (we think it’s a her anyway). When Ana told me they’d caught her and that she was likely only around six weeks old, we decided to bring her here for a while until she’s big enough to become a barn cat. So I picked her up yesterday afternoon and brought her home.
Turns out that she’s litter-trained, and completely socialized to humans. Possibly the friendliest kitten I’ve ever met in my life. She just purrs and snuggles. Occasionally she’ll bat gently at your finger or chew on the end of earphones. But mostly she just wants to sit on your shoulder and purr.
When Jen arrived this morning to discover a kitten in residence, she nearly melted all over my floor. As soon as she’d fed the horses, she took custody for a while. Which was nice, because that kitten is like velcro. She just rides my shoulder wherever I go. After Ana was finished riding Ares, she took the kitten for another snuggle shift. The kitten is now curled up fast asleep in the folds of a fuzzy blanket now.
So really…. who drops a gentle, friendly, housebroken kitten off in the middle of winter at a dark deserted and isolated farm when it’s snowing? What do they think? That living in the country is paradise for a cat? That a kitten can survive on mice that it hunts… at six weeks old? Maybe she was an unwanted Christmas gift or something?
This is something that used to happen a lot here on this farm. Sometimes entire litters of kittens along with their mothers in cardboard boxes. But over the last few years, as the area has gotten more built up it’s mostly stopped. It still seems to happen way too often at work. This one though is particularly young, and particularly domesticated.
People who would do that need a starlight tour themselves. No coat, at the end of December, on a deserted road, when it’s snowing.