dance peanut: September 2010

trixie before her new home, but after eating

trixie, after her first meal

I know I haven't blogged in a while, partly because it gets more daunting every day that I don't to actually do it. I feel impossibly behind and so I just avoid blogging. But something happened this week. And it's not even peanut related, really. So I will save a catch up post for next time, or never, and share with you the story of trixie...dumpster cat.

The other day I was driving down my alley minding my own business and ahead, I saw a man and a woman looking under a dumpster for cans. Now's a good time to say that our neighborhood is less than awesome. We like it, but we know that in reality its not as financially stable as where we lived before (huh, but isn't that true of us?). It's in transition (also us). So when people approach you and you are driving, it's best to just go on and pretend not to see them. I have a well practiced regretful head shake, and I can look right through people who come too close and won't back away. I can even add an eyebrow furl, puckered lips of regret for their situation. It works and keeps us safe/unbothered/isolated/etc, though suspect that I'm not fooling anyone and that as kind as I wish my expression of regret to be, I probably seem just too stuck up, too Bourgeois.

But, given my very skilled expressions, it came as a great surprise to me when the woman approached the car and stood right next to the drivers side window and lifted up her purse. Now you and I know that you do NOT open your window when a person you don't know walks up to your car and shows you something. Was she trying to show me drugs? If so, could she see I had a kid with me? Then I heard her say something I have dreams about, but have never heard before. "we found a kitten. Can you help us?"

A kitten? finger goes to let down window. "Can you help us?" me: "I can't have another animal" her, "please, we can't take care of it. It won't eat. There was another kitten too, but it died today." me: "oh no. Can you take it home?" the man now "we are homeless" me, in my head "shit." out loud: "oh, wow, sorry, can i see it?" Woman opens purse: a very small kitten meows from within. Yep that's a kitten. Not a gun or a knife or some drugs. Then the woman says, "i think its 4 weeks old. it won't eat." then they both continue to plead with me to take it, so I agree to. Looking for something to hold it in or with because it is filthy. The man says, "give her the purse. We found the purse too" the woman now, "I kinda wanted to keep the purse." Knowing I would only throw away the purse I said, "keep the purse. I can just hold it. Then she removes the thing from the purse, and the man offers a shirt he found in the trash which smells strongly of cologne and begins to hand it to me, but then pauses...."are you sure you can take care of it?" I say, "I'm a dog trainer. I will find it a home. Until then, it can stay with me." The man says, "give it to her. She has a kid." as if my mother-status would qualify me to care for a tiny little kitten. Then the woman hands it to me. And I have a kitten. I find a clean, but not 100% so (just food crumbs on it) cloth diaper in the back seat to wrap around the shirt. Then thank me and thank me and bless me and we drive away. Me, Peanut, kitty. She cries now. I thinks she must miss the woman, but this isn't even her last transition. I cannot have another cat. as much as I love kittens, I do not love cats all that much.

We bring the trembling kitty home and watch life come into it as it eats and eats a half can of wet food. It's incredible. Later that night, she is playful, not shakey, and on her way to her new home. The next day, she is named trixie. She weighs in at one pound.

The whole experience makes me glad to have a home. Glad to have a home for my animals. And glad for such a network of friends.

And although I must not update right now, I will post some peanut pics for those of you here just for those.