Earlier this summer, after a terrible thunderstorm ended we heard the sounds of a distressed cry. It was nearly midnight and Steve and I had not yet gone to bed as we were enjoying the cool calm the storm had brought when it left. The sounds was nearly lost in the sounds of the frogs melody down by the creek but it was there, high pitched and frantic. I heard it first and asked Steve to shush so I could be sure. Then he heard it too. It was the sound of a very young kitten.
Steve searched the kitchen for a flashlight, wouldn't you know it the large faced one would have dead batteries? He ended up with the small one I keep in the house for looking under the sink. In slippered feet, Steve went down the drive way and across the road towards the creek towards where the sounds seemed to be coming from.
He searched and searched, climbed over the rail and into the thicket working his way down towards the water. I worried he would disturb the snakes and rats and other critters which might inhabit that area we let grow wild. He shined the light towards the beaver dam and then ran it along the shore wondering if someone tossed the kitten from the road into the creek as the sound seemed to be getting fainter.
He worried the kitten was being carried off down the creek and would be lost. Soon the sounds of the kitten stopped all together. There was no more cries for help; no more frantic mellowing. My heart stopped when I did not hear it any longer, and Steve called out he did not have it; it was gone.
He came back into the house frustrated and angry at stupid people, we were all frustrated and angry. Adriane was in tears and I wanted to cry too for the little lost soul who did not have a chance. Steve got ready for bed as I picked up around the house muttering about the way people here in my area of the south seem to have no love or understanding for animals.
When I heard it again, frogs song and kitten cries mixed together.
I did not knock on the bathroom door, but burst in on my naked husband rousing him from the pot telling him I still hear the kitten. He looked up at me as if I was crazy. (Naked man on the pot, ready for bed crazy as he knew he was going back out) He tossed clothing back on and out he went, down the drive, across the road, and this time he went across the creek to the other side where there is a four-lane road.
He wandered this side of the creek shining the small light looking for the small kitten, for surely she had to be small with such a tiny voice. At some point it dawned on him she was not near the creek at all, but her voice echoed across the four lanes of highway. There was only a stray car passing now and then since it was now well into the early morning, making it easy for my brave husband to cross all four lanes safely.
Once there he honed in on the sound of her voice quickly. She was half way up the side of a wooded hill. Luckily, for her she would not have been able to get into the road as there was a puddle keeping her from it, which was deeper than she was tall. Steve went around the puddle, climbed the hill, and snatched her off the hill. She was cold and soaked to the skin. He quickly crossed all four lanes, passed the creek and then our road, climbed our drive, and then brought the kitten into the warmth of our house and to my hands.
She was possible 6-ish week's old, ginger colored, of a good weight; however; she has a huge infected wound on her belly and a small wound on her tail. We made her as comfortable as possible for her first night with us and the next morning she was off to the vets. We did not call animal control as where we live she would have been put down right away as they do not put any money into animals at all. We had her tested for kitty aids and leukemia as we already have cats in our home and if she had either of these, she would not have survived her wound and could have given these issues to our pets. She did not so we decided she would live with us.