Yesterday I was headed to lunch at the Farmer’s Market here in Nashville to meet my friend Alice. I was walking down the sidewalk from where I parked, and noticed up in the distance this tiny thing bounding down the sidewalk. I thought it was a bunny — it was so tiny and bouncy. Then, it darted under a car. I hurried up to the car and knelt down to see what it was, and it was a tiny, adorable, heartbreakingly precious kitten. It mewed (smaller than a meow) and hopped up into the car’s engine parts. Oh hell no. I wasn’t about to let this little nugget get piston slapped.
I laid on the ground (in a skirt) and shimmied halfway under this car. Two people asked if I was ok. ‘YEP! I’m cool. It’s a KITTEN!” They just hurried away — probably going to find security.
I coaxed it partly down and then pulled the little booger into my arms — fully prepared for it to eat my hand off. (After all, I live with Callie Cat, so fury is all I know). But it just looked up at me and mewed. (I think it said “mama?”) Then it licked my nose. I about fainted from cuteness.
I called Alice to see where she was because she’s always wanted a kitten — and told her where to meet me. In the meantime, approximately 20 people walked by and told me “oh you’re done for now,” or similar. Yeah — I know. I also tried to give her away to several people, just in case Alice didn’t want her because I sure as heck wasn’t putting her back out on the cruel city streets.
I knew I couldn’t take her home though. Callie is an only child and just can’t be anything else. Let’s just say that if I brought the kitten home, she would be an only child again like five minutes later, because she would eat it for fourth meal.
Alice went in and got our lunch (after she too fell in love with kitten pants) and we had a picnic outside with the kitten. She played (the kitten, not Alice), ate some cheese off our pizza, part of an old chicken finger someone had dropped (and accidentally bit my finger — so I was pleased to find out last night that she didn’t have rabies), then she tuckered out and took a bath and a nap.
Alice took her back to her office, thinking she’d at least foster her for a few days and then decide what to do for her full time. But her Executive Director fell in love with her too, and took the kitten home to her four-year-old daughter who is going to give her a good home. She already got checked out at the vet last night and got a clean bill of health. Just a few earmites.
P.S. — Alice and I decided since we’d found her at the Farmer’s Market, we should name her something vegetable-like. So I blurted out Eggplant, and it was set. Little kitten Eggplant.
However, I found out last night that the four year old who Eggplant is living with has renamed her “Sally.”
I’m not sure how I feel about this, and think she’ll always be an Eggplant deep down.
I’m such a crazy cat lady.
Best lunch at the Farmer’s Market ever, right Alice? 🙂 Thanks for taking care of our kitten baby!