So, Friday was sort of an odd day for me. I got a late start to my day because of some appointments, so when I got to the office, things weren't in their normal state of slightly dysfunctional flow. I was helping a co-worker with some stuff and after going over the overview, she says to me, "Ok I have a random question for you." To which I of course replied, "I have some random answers."
But before I could start listing off some random trivia, she asked if I liked cats.
Oh, that's not so random. I do like cats. I have 3 of them. Turns out that while she was outside the building she saw a cat, but she's not really comfortable with cats, but saw that it had a collar on, but couldn't get close enough to read the tags.
So downstairs I go, looking for a cat. In my excitement, I forgot to ask what kind or color. I just remember her saying that it was "little." So I make the here-kitty-kitty noise and look aimlessly around the building. Then lo! And Behold! A little cat comes walking up. A tiny cat. A kitten. Orange tabby. Sweet marmalade ginger tabby cat! Kitty walks right up to me and so I sit down, and it climbs into my lap. I look at the tags--there's a city tag, a rabies vaccine and an SPCA PetWatch card with an 800 number to call. Great. Little kitty is too excited about being pet to sit still long enough for me to read the number and call, so I take little kitty uptairs to the office, find a box and call the number, while taking pictures.
I notice that little kitty is a boy, and I guessed between 4-6 months old, because he was neutered, but still tiny. And his claws were clipped back, still blunt, so he couldn't have been out in the wild too long, despite the dirty smudges on his face. With a tissue and some patience, while I was pushing through the numeric menus on the phone I cleaned up his face. His little bell jinngled & janggled as he explored my desk and I looked for cuts, scrapes, wounds or other injuries. Thankfully he had none. The lovely gent at the SPCA took my name & number then put me on hold to try to contact the owner. Turns out she's in Wylie and had been looking for the little guy for 2 days. No idea how he made it from Wylie to my office.
Now, for those of you not familiar with TX geography, here's a map. It's roughly 27 miles from his home to where I found him.
Since I live in Plano, which is only 9 miles from his home, I took the little guy back to my house. He spent most of the car ride in my lap purring or snuggling my purse in the passenger seat, which is where I left him as I went into my house to let my dog out into the back yard and sequester my three beasties while I brought a strange cat into my home.
We gave him food and water & he used the litter box with glee while we waited, chased the laser pointer and snuggled. His owner came to retrieve him and was so excited. He was her first cat, she'd adopted him from the Wylie Animal Shelter and 2 days later he got out and she couldn't find him. Se put up posters all over her neighborhood and had been going door-to-door talking to her neighbors, which would have been great if he wasn't 27 miles away. The current theory is that he hopped in the back of a pick-up truck and got carted over to Dallas... possibly to the Walmart next to my office and he got out there. After an excited and tearful reunion, we sent Rocco home to become an indoor kitty, well loved and petted. We then washed our hands and went to love on our kitties and remind them how good they've got it!
I love happy endings.