Good morning Islanders. Got my dose of drama this morning and did a good deed. Saturday morning at around 02:00, I take a whizz and could hear the faint crying of a kitten. No biggie. The Old Hen feeds a ton of strays, most of which are party girls that constantly are dropping little ones. Sunday morning around the same time, I'm hearing the same. This morning around 09:00, I hear a very distinct cry from the same place. Light bulb goes off. There's a covered window well under that window. I grab a shirt and head out.
I gotta crawl under massive overgrown shrubs across pine needles and lava rocks on my bare knees. I worm my way to the window well, and there's a grapefruit sized hole in it. I grab one corner and rip it off so I can see inside (it's broke already, and now it's broker). Yep. There's a kitten with no hope of getting back out unassisted. It won't come to my hand, so I yell to the wife and tell her to bring me the loping shears. She comes back and crawls over to hand 'em to me and I whack off a couple of branches and hand them back out. I reached in to grab the kitty fully expecting to need a blood transfusion afterward, but no hissing or clawing ensued. Over 48 hours without food or water. Tell me cats ain't tough!
Just what I needed; another cat.
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