Kitten whisperer saves the day

The wooden plank flooring in the feed store creaked from the tread of many barn boots over the years and a large wood stove radiated warmth on that chilly, early December morning. The stove was surrounded by wooden rocking chairs that were usually occupied by friends, neighbors or a customer with a little extra time on their hands.

Mary, the proprietor, also radiated warmth while bustling around the store, taking care of the customers or restocking the shelves. All of the area farm families knew Mary, a kind woman with blue eyes and a big heart.

This morning, however, was not typical. No one was sitting around the stove chatting and sipping coffee. The customers conducted their business and made a quick exit, as fast as they possibly could. Mary was truly worried and at her wits end. Why? Because a tiny kitten was screaming at the top of its lungs incessantly. It was driving everyone crazy.

You see Mary provided a much-needed and much-appreciated service of finding homes for an unending stream of barn kittens that the farmers would bring in. She had a large cage for them at the front of the store, although oftentimes the older kittens were allowed to roam about freely. But, not this morning.

This morning, there was one kitten, about five weeks old, all by itself, wondering where its kitty mommy was. But the kitten wasn’t in the cage. It was so small that it was able to squeeze out through a gap in the corner.

Mary looked up from her inventory spreadsheet and saw a regular, if not all-too-frequent customer come in. The customer couldn’t help but hear the 100-decibel caterwauling. Alarmed by it, she looked in the cage. Nothing there. She looked up at Mary, “Where’s the kitten?”

“In the wall,” said Mary and jerked her thumb at a low wall that supported the front windows of the store.

The customer followed the direction of Mary’s thumb and saw a big, burly farmer reaching as far as he could through a hole that had been cut larger to get the kitten out. The kitten wailed just beyond his reach. “How long has the kitten been in there?” she asked.

“Twenty-four hours,” Mary replied and rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“You’re kidding. Twenty-four hours? Holy smokes, have you tried luring it out with food? It must be starving!”

Poor, tired Mary leaned with both elbows on a display case and said, “Oh yeah, we’ve tried everything. We finally had to cut the wall, but as you can see, that didn’t work either.”

The big burly farmer gave up, rolled the sleeves of his flannel shirt back down and went to help Mary carry some 50-pound bags of feed. The customer couldn’t stand listening to the kitten howl and said to Mary, “Do you want me to get it out?” Mary nodded her assent, but didn’t have much hope.

Mary watched as the kitten whisperer walked quietly over to the hole in the wall and slowly squatted down. Way back in the darkness of the wall joists she saw the little furry ball of trouble. It stopped meowing as it warily backed away from the latest in a long line of well-meaning strangers.

The kitten whisperer leaned forward and made a barely audible trilling sound that sounded just like a momma kitty. The curious kitten cautiously inched forward to see if it was its mommy. When it realized that it wasn’t mama, it stopped, but before it could dart back, the kitten whisperer reached out and grabbed it quickly but gently by the scruff of its neck.

“I got it, Mary,” she announced as she wrapped the wiggling kitten up in her arms and gently stroked it until it finally calmed down. The temptation to take it home crossed her mind but with three rescued cats already within her household, it was out of the question.

Mary put the kitten back in the cage and gratefully thanked her customer who had forgotten what she had come in to buy. The kitten immediately resumed its loud mewing.

The next morning, the telephone rang at the store. The kitten whisperer, haunted by the pitiful cries of the baby kitten, was on the line. “Hi, Mary. How’s the kitten doing?”

“Oh, a family with young children came in yesterday afternoon and adopted the kitten. It went to a good home.” The kitten whisperer breathed a heavy sigh of relief and hung her car keys back up on the wall.

Lea Simpson is writing this week in place of regular Of Cabbages and Kings contributor Luella Dow, who related this true story to her.