A priceless find on Oct 13 on a cold and rainy day: you just never know what you’ll find when you go to the Vanderhoof dump.
I parted with some scrap wire etcetera and while I was there the truck that empties the cardboard bins working there was making a lot of noise, as I tossed my scrap onto the pile. The truck left and I turned just as a sound of a kitten mewed.
I hesitated. “Naw, I’m hearing things,” I determined. I even called, “Kitty, kitty?” Nothing. Whew, relieved I was, and then I heard it again. “Oh, there is a kitten of some sort in that big pile.”
So I looked but it was quiet again, and this time when it mewed I was able to hone it on where approximately it was coming from and there it was cold and wet in an open four-litre paint can, barely I could see it, so tiny it was.
I went back to my van, and took a photo, got a bucket I use as my trash can, put a wad of paper towel in it, put some gloves on (I keep all this just in case there is a need) and went back to pick up the kitten. Now what? The operator at the dump didn’t want it, no sir, and I thought there would be some sort of access or helpful guidance in place for such occurrences.
Then I asked another young lady if she would be interested. A lot of sweet hesitation happened and she (wisely) and politely turned me down; after all, they just got a new puppy. Another gentleman quietly turned me down as he had allergies, another employee there operating a Bobcat also declined my offer.
Now I am starting to worry, and so I thought, “Well, poor thing is quiet in the bucket, probably going to need to eat, hmmm, now I don’t know anything about cats or kittens, other people own them, I don’t, and now it is my responsibility because I picked it up.”
So I went to the local Vanderhoof Veterinary Clinic. It was a lucky day for both of us, that kitten and I. I explained my dilemma and one of the gals picked the kitten up out of the bucket before I even finished my story, and passed it on over to her co-worker where it snuggled ever so close to her and her comment was, “Oh, how cold his tiny little feet were.”
These wonderful people took this kitten from me and my worries were over and before I left, they were taking it for a de-bugging of sorts.
Now I am not sure where this kitten’s story began or where it will end. But I must say for you who dropped this little guy off in this manner: Shame, not cool, but you know that already.
For the gals at the clinic: absolutely major thanks, totally awesome and again, thanks for helping me but more for that little orphan, whatever its destiny.
Cathy Robinson
Vanderhoof, B.C.