So this is what happened to me seven days ago. I was sitting in Tarry Market in downtown Port Chester, drinking a cup of coffee, when I saw a sad, pathetic sight. A tiny grey animal was dragging itself across the intersection.
“Look at that poor injured squirrel,” I thought. In an idle, Sunday-morning kind of way, I wondered what to do. Call Animal Control? The Audubon Center? Then, squinting through the window at it, I realized I wasn’t looking at a squirrel. It was a tiny grey striped kitten.
I ran out of the cafe and into the street, leaving my phone, my book, my coffee and my wallet on the table (“We all wondered what the hell you were doing,” the café workers would later inform me). I picked up the kitten and brought it back inside the café.
Plastered with mud and shivering — it had struggled from the street all the way to the gutter by the time I reached it, half-drowning itself in a filthy puddle — the kitten feebly scratched at me to get me to put it down.
“As if,” I told it firmly. I asked the nice Tarry market workers for a cardboard box and some other coffee drinkers gathered around, exclaiming at how pitiful it was. This really nice cop who’s always hanging out at Tarry on Sunday morning told me: “You got a new little pal. You should name him Cappucino.”
However, the kitten turned out to be a “she” and my daughter named her Jinx after Jinx from Teen Titans. There was nothing seriously wrong with the kitten except a cat-virus of some sort, tons of fleas, worms, and a bad case of being very cold and wet. She’s so young that we have to feed her “Kitten Replacement Milk,” which, as an aside, I think would make a good band name.
The intersection of Main Street and Mill Street in downtown Port Chester is no joke — in fact, the whole reason I sit facing the window when I have a coffee at Tarry is so I can gasp with horror at the shocking disregard for traffic laws shown by some New York and Connecticut drivers, and thrill to the narrow escapes of pedestrians navigating the intersection. And this kitten was literally smack in the middle of that intersection when I caught sight of her. So, if any kittens are reading this, do not try to cross the street at that intersection. Instead, you should sit on the curb and meow for help.