A Storm Comes

“Rick, I just saw something small and furry run across the street.”

Oh, boy. Here we go again. We were at the theatre, waiting for showtime so I could start the film rolling. The skies were overcast. The air was cooler than the past couple of days have been, but humidity was high as rain drizzled down now and again.

Lady Glynis’ celphone had been stolen earlier. She went to the store and left it lying on the carseat. When she came back out, it was gone. When Lady Glynis has a loss, though, it is usually quickly replaced.

“What was it?” I asked.

“I don’t know. It was moving too fast, but I saw it go under that green minivan.”

We went out to the van, a customer’s car that was parked a couple of buildings down from the theatre. I knelt down and bent over to look under the vehicle. I saw the grey furred hindquarters of a youngster as it scrabbled to the top of the muffler. I couldn’t see it clearly. As I reached for it, the animal ran along the exhaust pipe to the catalytic converter.

“Did you see what it was?” Lady Glynis asked.

“I think it was a kitten, but I couldn’t see it very well. It ran on top of the catalytic converter and I can’t reach it.”

“We can’t leave it there! It’ll get killed.”

I went into the theatre and found the gentleman who owned the minivan.

“There’s some kind of animal in the undercarriage of your car.”

He came out, accompanied by his daughter.

“Did you see what it was?” he asked.

“I think it was a kitten. It’s up over your catalytic converter. It seems pretty scared and we’re worried about it not coming out of the car when you leave.”

For twenty minutes two grown men, a women, and a girl try to coax a smally furry animal out of the undercarriage of the car. We call to it. No longer able to see it, we grope around for it. The gentleman runs the engine for a short time to try to frighten it out. Nothing works. Finally I see a small fringe of hair hanging over the edge of the heat shield over the catalytic converter.

“I found it!”

I try to reach my hand over the heat shield. I hear the creature scrabble back. I reposition myself to be able to reach farther in.

“I’ve got its paw! OW!”

The kitten bites me and struggles to be released, crying with frightened mews. I pull gently, not wanting to hurt it. Finally I get it out and see a small ball of teeth, one of them broken, long gray hair, and wide eyes as the kitten struggles it way loose. Landing on the sidewalk, it runs into the doorway of the building next to the theatre. The customer runs after it.

“OW! It bit me.” Looking like a rabid raccoon, the kitten struggles in his grip. I go into the theatre for an insulated shirt I keep there for cold days. When I come back out, we wrap the kitten in it so it can’t get away or hurt itself or us. Lady Glynis has gotten a large box. She takes the shirt wrapped kitten, crooning over it until it settles down, then gently unwraps the shirt as she places it and the kitten in the box. After one heroic attempt to leap out of the box, the kitten silently hides in the shirt.

Later, after the kitten has had time to relax, Lady Glynis lifts it out of the box. As she croons and strokes it, she says “I think we’ll call you Storm.”

The kitten has no collar and is very thin. It’s pretty clean, though, with no sign of mites. It couldn’t have been on the streets more than a few days. In the evening we take her home after making arrangements to have lost kitten signs posted. I don’t think she’ll be claimed, though.

Lady Glynis lost her phone. I think Storm is its replacement.

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