A Byrd's Eye View

"Excuse Me, Sir...Are You Looking for a Kitten?"

Hi, my name is Byrd and I have stray cat karma. Despite what you may have been told, some karma cannot be changed. Stray cat karma is one such type.

A couple of decades ago, when I was studying overseas in Athens as an undergraduate, my roommate brought home a tiny shivering, puking kitten which was also suffering from dysintery. We named it Shitty Mittens.

Shitty Mittens grew as we fed her, and soon she was old enough to lounge on the balcony of our apartment, taking in the sun within spying distance of our landlady. The jig was up (damn those landlords! The bane of cat lovers everywhere!), and we had to find a home for Shitty Mittens. We advertised in the Athens English-language newspaper, and got a single nibble. We agreed to meet the gentleman who had answered our ad in the lobby of the Athens Hilton at 7:00 pm.

It was a real cloak-and-dagger assignment. What we were doing was obviously against the policies of such a fine hotel as the Athens Hilton. We didn't have a cat-carrier, and Shitty Mittens was old enough to wriggle about under my trenchcoat while making some very compromising mewing sounds. My roommate carried a shopping bag filled with toys and cat food. We tried to look casual and "blend".

When we got the the assigned meeting place, we realized with some horror that we had failed to get a clear description of the man with whom we were making the rendez-vous. We knew he was a Greek, but in Athens, that was little help. So we were reduced to walking up to all the single men in the Athens Hilton lobby, asking them, "Pardon me, sir...are you looking for a kitten?" A few men misinterpreted our approach, thinking that we were ladies of the evening. But mostly, they just sort of appeared startled by the question, shook their heads, and walked away.

Finally, we found our fellow, transferred the struggling mass of fur and claws from under my coat to under his, and palmed off the toys and food. Drawing our trenchcoats around our ears, we walked nonchalantly past the doorman and back out into the streets of Athens. One kitten down, fifty gazillion to go.

Now, I find myself in the same position once again, crying to the heavens, "why me?" This is an example of what Buddhism calls "karma".

This week, my stray cat karma has manifested itself once again. Three kittens have popped up into my environment. They don't seem to have a mother, and they seem to come from different litters. Two of them are about three weeks older than the baby, a little black ball of mangy fur which likes to be picked up and cuddled. The older, grey ones are more stand-offish.

When these living beings presented themselves in my environment, I had no choice. Their mewing was so pitiful and the sun was so hot that I was compelled to put out some food and ice water for them. What else could I do? I couldn't keep them. I have three cats already, and that's two more than my housing cooperative allows. I was in a terrible quandary.

I asked a friend from work who is a cat-rescue volunteer. She shook her head and told me the terrible truth....this season is the worst kitten season in her memory of several decades. Kittens are everywhere. It's a veritable tsunami of kittens. She and her rescue partner alone are personally caring for 150 homeless kittens and young cats this summer, struggling to find homes for them. She was not able to help me.

According to my friend, most of this can be blamed on people who do not spay and neuter their pets. Stupid, stupid humans. Some human parents, it seems, like to teach their children about the "miracle of life", or the proverbial birds and bees by letting little Fluffy get pregnant over and over again, and then letting the kittens run free and fend for themselves. This unhappy state of affairs has now manifested as my stray cat karma.

I have made phone calls, I have asked all of my friends. So please...if you know of anyone in the LA area who would like a kitten, please let me know.

The most stand-offish grey one is making himself quite comfortable, and I can't let this go on much longer. Just this morning in the bathroom, as I was seated on the throne and reading the Sunday paper, the grey one marched up to the open bathroom door and announced himself. To say that I was startled would be an understatement. He was supposed to be outside! He must have come in through the open window my regular cats use to come and go. I rebuked him, but to no avail.

"Kitty!" I said sternly, "you cannot stay here! Get out!" Upon this command, the thing made its way to the top of a pile of laundry and proceeded to groom itself. It had made up its mind.

The Co-op's Board of Directors is threatening to take these kittens to the pound, which will mean certain euthanasia. I must find homes for them. So, please....are you looking for a kitten?

Be compassionate, be tuna-flavored, be cool.

Byrd in LA

Posted by wahzoh at August 19, 2007 09:42 AM