All Tied Up
When I was growing up, my Mom would get so upset with me because I would find a stray dog or cat, and I would bring it home until we found it somewhere else to live. One time in particular, I was in junior high school, and one of my classmates told me if he did not find a home for his litter of kittens, his Dad was going to drown them in the river.
I looked at him completely appalled, and told him that I would come get them after school. When the 2:30 bell rang, I walked to my car with this boy. We drove to his house and he handed me a box of six kittens. They were adorable and meowing their heads off, but I was terrified of what my Mom's reaction would be. I hoped I would get home before her, and was lucky enough that I did. I didn't know where to put these kittens, and then it dawned on me. I could hide them in my gigantic walk in closet, which is exactly what I did.
For a couple of hours, no one noticed. Then when they kept hearing me getting in and out of my closet, they began getting suspicious. My Mom came upstairs and asked me what I was up to. I tried telling her no, but I've been burdened with a tell tale smile anytime I try to lie.
I told my Mom what had happened, and after a few minutes of being upset, she wanted to see them. Once she did, all of her anger turned into a great big ball of fuzziness swirling around in her tummy. The next day we placed an ad in the paper for kittens for 10 dollar donations to the ASPCA, and within four days they all had new homes.
Well, fast forward six years. When I first moved out, I went to the animal shelter and got myself a tuxedo cat. He was incredible, and made coming home after work and school ten times better.
I sew, and although I keep all of my sewing supplies in a sealed box, my ornery cat had managed to find his way into my threads. When I got home that day my cat wasn't eating, peeing, or meowing. He looked absolutely pitiful, and I was terrified. I got in my car and took my baby to the emergency vet, crying the whole way there. When I got to the vet, they took him back to figure out what is wrong, and my crying got worse.
About 30 minutes later they came out and told me, "You're cat swallowed a long piece of thread, and it's tangled around his organs. I'm going to operate to remove it, but there's a good chance he won't make it."
I knew this lady didn't do it, but at that very moment the only thing I could think of was to rip her hair out for telling me she may not be able to save my pet. She told me to go home and she'd call me when the operation was over, and I told her I wasn't going anywhere.
The next morning she came out to the waiting area and told me she had been able to remove the thread, and now she was more convinced he would make it. She told me he wasn't out of the woods yet, but I was just glad his chances improved. Eventually, she handed me my 3,000 dollar vet bill, and my beautiful healthy tuxedo cat. I would have paid 30,000 more.
I am convinced that the only thing that saved my cat was that I always do what I can for pets in need, and it was kitty karma that saved him. Even though I know it might be silly, it keeps me reminded that I need to do what I can to help those that can't help themselves.
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