Shhhhhhhhhhh! I’m Hunting Kitten!


Observe. Small pile of kibble to the right of bright and enticing kitten toy. I cannot fail!

Tuesday night, Karmann woke me up at 3:40am. So we went outside and she dutifully peed, but as soon as we got out there I heard the unmistakable peeping of a Very Tiny Kitten. I think the pee was a diversion. Karmann, lover of cats, must have heard the peeping. And she was ready to hunt herself a new friend–a fluffy baby kitten friend who could be taught to snuggle with her enjoy her snoofling, who would not swat at her or resent her in any way. Karmann is basically like the Warner Brothers Abominable Snowman and her George was so close she could just about taste him (but gently, and without any eating.)

Of course, the reason that Karmann and I get along so well is that I, too, am functionally the Abominable Snowman, so it took a not insignificant amount of effort to herd my little puppy back into the house without inspecting, locating, and adopting on site.

I looked for the kitten Wednesday morning, and again in the afternoon. No kitten.

Until Schmoop and I sat down in the evening to catch up on The Leftovers. And I heard the peeping. And I asked Schmoop if he heard the peeping. And he muted the TV and said the peeping was avian in origin and I knew that to be lies, damn lies, and Schmoop went to investigate and, lo, there was a peeper.

Because of course there was. I’m blind as a bat and I can’t hear someone standing right next to me, softly speaking my name, but I can see/hear critter in distress from 50 yards. If I ever tell you there is a critter, and you don’t see the critter, shut up and listen to me BECAUSE THERE IS A CRITTER. I once stopped my car in Savannah to let an anole cross the street. True story. Never doubt my superpower.

Anyway, the peeper looks EXACTLY like The Woob did when she was as big as an outsized sweet potato.

My reaction to a lone, peeping, Very Tiny Kitten is roughly 10,000,000 times stronger than Michelle Duggar’s reaction to an abandoned baby sitting on a bible. So I immediately created an internal montage of kitten scenes wherein he was named Rupert and became the dogs’ confidant and snugglepuss and generally outraged Mort in adorable fashion.

We were unable to snag him before he ran off to wherever adorable tiny kittens go at night, but he ate some jerky and kitten treats, so at least he has a full belly. I left some food under my car, where Rupert was decamped because he actually wants me to drive him across the river to my mother, but as of this morning it was untouched.

So I’ve set up a Very Tiny Kitten lure, with the food and the waggly fleece thing, in the hopes that he returns so that I can snag him and hide him under my bed take him to a shelter, where he will be quickly snagged by somebody wonderful who has some spare sanity to offer him (none of that here) because he is so stinking adorable I just want to grab him and stuff him in my ponytail forever.