Because George forgot bread and milk when he picked up groceries, I stopped at Kwik Trip instead of going directly home from yoga. And because I was only getting groceries, I parked in front of the store instead of at the gas pump. And because I chose the corner spot for the F150, I caught a fleeting glimpse of the Kwik Trip Kitten.
She spotted me first and was already headed into the sidewalk storm sewer drain. But I saw enough to leave an impression that would haunt me all night. A baby out alone in the cold, fending for herself, cars coming and going in the parking lot and the highway it sits on.
Let the rescue begin.
George stopped at the store in the morning, learned that the employees knew about the kitten and were leaving milk out for it. He told them his wife wanted to setup a live trap and bring the little feline to the humane society. Not sure where he got that last part, but first things first.
I set up the live trap, baited with a can of “Supreme Supper” (first big decision – what flavor would she like? – opted to go right to the top shelf) and left with great anticipation.
The next morning brought evidence that she approved of my menu selection, but the trap had not tripped. I took the can to work with me so it would warm up for Night 2, which saw her return, but yet another trap failure. And last night, one more.
Today I spent too much time kneeling on the Kwik Trip sidewalk during the season’s first snowstorm, trying to re-engineer the release mechanism, so eventually brought the trap home. Consultation with Dad and brother Pete revealed it was missing a key piece, but I was determined not to be outwitted by a simple system of metal wires, and able to improvise with a strategically placed rubber band. One more not-so-quick trip on slippery roads, and I’m back in the cat catching business.
Through this process I’ve met some very kind convenience store employees who care about this little kitten and one who avoids all eye contact. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m a crazy old woman with 57 felines in my home.
It all starts with one…
From Four Sticks Farm 