Doing the Right Thing

Last Tuesday I found a six-month-old kitten outside of my apartment door. Disheveled, lonely, and mewling grouchily, she was sniffing around under my door. My two cats crept under the bed, disturbed. I brought the little one in (she was tuxedo-colored) and crated her in the bathroom. I fed her, and wiped her down with a wet cloth—she smelled as if she had been bathed in perfume. I suspected I knew who she belonged to: a mentally unbalanced woman downstairs known to let her poor chihuahua relieve himself in the hallway directly outside of her apartment. She rarely leaves her room. Last time the exterminator came through, he shuddered and told us horrifying tales of her roach-infested apartment.

It was after one in the morning. The kitten purred and rubbed her little neck against my ankles. I kept her overnight and let her free in the bathroom while I was at work the next day. I asked around—Was anyone interested in a pet? Dan and I put a sign in the building lobby. It was the right thing to do, right? Right? I hoped my suspicion was wrong. I hoped I could find the kitten a new, wonderful home. I brought her to the clinic at St. Mark’s and had her vaccinated and tested for FIV. When I returned home, there was a note taped to my door. It was a translation from Spanish to English. It was just as I’d suspected. Devastated, I sat and the end of the bed, crying, and let Dan hold me for the ten minutes that passed between our arrival home and when the woman came upstairs to reclaim her cat.

How could I let this kitten out of my care? How could I return it to that home? But I couldn’t lie; I had the cat. She spoke only Spanish—I spoke none. I said, “Vetrinarian; she is healthy” but she said “Su nombre est Rosita.” She didn’t seem relieved, she didn’t thank us. I knew she was on social security; I couldn’t ask her to pay me for the vet visit. I doubt she would have ever taken the kitten in herself.

I passed the tiny squiming cat through my doorway and walked back into my apartment crying. I doubt I’ll ever see her again.