I had just completed my second year of university and had started another stint at the local tire plant in their summer student work program. The pay was great but the labour was dirty and painstakingly boring – twelve hour shift passed by like a snail in peanut butter. To get through the time, I fantasized about my prospective apartment in the city. I hadn’t secured myself a roommate yet or an apartment for that matter but these were just minor set-backs in my mind. The smart thing to do in this incidence would have been to make steps toward these two gains or at least start scrounging up some second-hand furniture to prepare but all I was focused on was the cat I needed for my apartment in the city.

Shortly after I had moved back home, my mom and my youngest brother (who was only 7 at the time) were driving on one of the many back country roads near where I grew up when they came upon a tiny grey kitten in the middle of road. My mom immediately stopped the car and got out to approach what she assumed to be a single orphaned kitten. His cries were small and squeaky but he meowed with such conviction that he seemed to have a message. As my mom got closer to him, she saw that indeed he did. In the ditch behind him were three more orphaned kittens huddled together. Around this time, another driver had pulled over, gotten out of her car and was approaching the scene as well. They managed to wrangle two of the kittens – the grey one surrendered much easier than the others as they scattered into the woods out of fear. My brother small and limber managed to catch the other lucky soul. The woman who had stopped after my mom offered to take the kittens to her house up the road. My mom called to check on the kittens a couple of days later, learning that the woman had caught a third kitten who now joined the other two.

I heard about these kittens around this time from my brother who enthusiastically recalled the story and his chase and retrieval through the woods. According to him, the kitten that he caught looked exactly like a pure bred siamese cat. I was skeptical about this detail but regardless of what they looked like, I needed to see them and my mom agreed to take me.

As we pulled into the woman’s driveway, all we could hear was a loud, large dog barking. We walked around the side of the house and the woman met us there. She hauled out of the garage, a box, 3 feet tall and only about a foot squared. Peeking over the sides, I saw three small fur bodies piled on top of one another and a small food dish that took up most of the bottom surface of the box. I’ll never forget the look they gave me as I peered in at them. Their eyes covered in goop and their little bodies so frail. In the state they were in, it was hard to make out their coat colourings – but my brother was correct – not just one, but two of the kittens looked like siamese. I was dumbfounded as to why they were living in a box in the woman’s garage and not at a shelter receiving treatment. My mom hid her outrage better than I, politely telling the woman that we would take the kittens and bring them to the local shelter. The woman didn’t object and seemed happy to get them off her hands.

Unfortunately, given the time of day it was, the local shelter was not open. Their tiny meows were becoming more weak and frantic. Without hesitation, we quickly shuttled them to the veterinarian clinic. We explained the situation and they graciously took them in – the veterinarian explained the severity of their conditions. They had serious ear and eye infections. They were dehydrated, extremely emaciated and in finally stages of starvation. We were told, they would do all they could for them but the vet warned us, they may not make it through the night.

My mom and I returned home completely disheartened. Neither of us slept well that night and when the phone rang early the next morning we both raced to answer it. Sadly, one of the kittens did not make it through the night. She was too far gone. As devastating as it was to hear this news, our spirits were lifted to hear that the other two kittens had responded well to the treatments. There was hope for them but the clinic would need to keep them for at least a week for further treatment and monitoring.

It seemed like the longest week ever – working those long 12 hour shifts and worrying about the fate of these two little kittens. I remember the excitement I felt when I got the call that the kittens were cleared to come home.

By this time, I had accepted that my wanting a cat had resulted in the universe giving me two. Orphaned and sickly yes, but I couldn’t have been more ecstatic. A measly $50 vet charge and a bag full antibiotics and I was on my way – with my two ditch kitties, who were named, with the help of my little brother, Boo and Phoenix…

Ten years later, there have been additions made to my animal family but these two little cats still hold a special place in my heart and no doubt, each others.