Yes, I know. I've heard them call me the Cat Lady before. It's not the way most people think, though. It's not that I like having all these cats around smelling up my house. I can barely afford to feed them all. I really only wanted one or two, but it's out of my control. Things just happen to me.
I guess some people can just walk away but I'm not that hard-hearted. Like the day I adopted that little white one over there, along with his brothers and sisters. I was going about my own business, and like I said, things happen to me. I'd gone to the bank to make a deposit when I saw my neighbor sitting on the front steps. She had sprained her ankle, she told me, and was afraid she had broken it.
It was a good thing I happened along. It was a hot day and there she was sitting on the steps unable to walk. I helped her to my car and drove her to the emergency room. We were there almost an hour. I had other things to do, but I couldn't leave her. Nancy is eight months pregnant, poor dear, and not in the best of health anyway.
The emergency room was small and stuffy. I was sitting across from a man in a suit who had brought in a colleague with chest pains. I know that because he was on his cell phone almost constantly. We hadn't been there more than a minute when a guy in a white tennis outfit came in. I took an instant dislike to him; there was a haughty air about the way he moved and spoke.
As soon as he checked in with the nurse, he made a call. He was using the phone right next to me on the wall, so of course I listened. Evidently he had been in a slight accident and was calling his wife to explain why he was delayed.
"Believe me, this dump is the last place I want to be stuck, but you never know. We might want to sue and it won't hurt to have an immediate visit to the emergency room on record."
Then he mentioned something that got me to worrying.
"I may not get the kittens dropped off before they close for the day." From his end of the exchange, I surmised he had been taking a litter of kittens to the animal shelter and his wife wasn't happy that he might be bringing them home again.
The conversation confirmed my poor opinion of him. I sat there for a minute or two and wondered where the kittens were until I couldn't take it any longer. It was in the nineties outside and I imagined those kittens in his car.
"I couldn't help overhearing you speak of some kittens," I said as nicely as I could. "Do you mind if I ask where they are now?"
"Why," he asked, wincing with his hand on the back of his neck.
"I was just hoping they are not in your car in this heat," I answered, unable to think of a more diplomatic way to say it.
The man with the cell phone looked at the guy in white and then at me. I'm afraid I was making a spectacle of myself.
"How is that any of your business?" the guy answered.
"They could die in a hot car," I said, beginning to panic.
"Don't get your panties all in a bunch, lady. I can't bring them in here." Then he said something that made my blood boil. "I'll just be a few minutes. Besides, they are just throwaway kittens - there's too many cats in the world, anyway."
"Please bring them in," I pleaded. "I will watch them while you are here."
"They'll be fine in the car," he insisted.
"Tell me which car they are in and I'll get them for you."
"Lady, let it rest," he said.
I looked at my friend and the man in the suit. Surely I wasn't the only one who cared.
The man in the suit picked up his cell phone and entered a number. "Hello, Officer," he said into the receiver. "With whom do I need to speak about a case of animal cruelty?"
"Wait a minute, mister," the guy in the tennis shorts said, rising to his feet. "I'm going to get them now. No reason to bother the police with this little thing."
Well, in less than a minute there I was, baby-sitting a box full of kittens in the emergency room. We gave them something to drink and they were fine, just a little hot. Another few minutes and it would have been too late, though. They were so sweet, so fragile. I couldn't bear to think of what their fate had almost been.
Needless to say I didn't give the kittens back to that guy. My friend was ready to leave by the time he was in seeing the doctors. The nurse had just informed the man in the suit that they were keeping his coworker overnight, so he was ready to leave, as well.
"What are you going to do with the kittens," the man asked me as he prepared to leave.
"I don't know," I said. "I hate to leave them for that jerk to take to the pound." I shook my head slowly. "I could take them temporarily, I guess, but can I do that? I mean - that guy - will he?"
The man handed me his card. "I don't think he will do a thing. And if he does, I'm a lawyer. Call me if you need to. It will be a pleasure to defend you without charge. I don't think you have anything to fear, though, from a guy who called them "throwaway kittens."
See what I mean? Things just happen to me.
THE END