It was very relaxing getting
away from the house for a change. Judy and I had decided to spend five days
with our grandkids at a local campground, about 15 miles from our home in
Brunswick, Georgia.
The second day we were there I ran a large steel spike through my right hand,
which took about twelve stitches. But worse than that, were the six hours of
waiting in the emergency room lobby to be treated.
After returning to the campsite, I found that I was really unable to do much of
anything with the kids. Most of the next five days I just sat by myself as
everyone fished, played volleyball, and cards.
On Thanksgiving Day, we deep-fried two large turkeys. It was the first time in
my life that I had eaten Thanksgiving Dinner outside. I must say that it was
very enjoyable. At dusk we started a large fire. Everyone grabbed a lawn chair
and sat around for hours talking, and roasting marshmallows. About twelve a.m.
we decided to hit the sack.
Early the next morning we were up breaking down the campsite. I stood to the
side trying to stay out of the way. My hand was still very sore and there was
very little I could do that would be helpful. As I stood, there I noticed a
black pick up truck driving very slowly by the bathroom. I watched as the
passenger threw a brown paper bag at the garbage can, missing it. When they
drove away, I walked over to pick up the bag. When I picked it up, it was
rather heavy. I opened the bag and saw a small kitten inside.
"Well, hello there, Little Missy," I said to the small female kitten,
as I lifted her out of the bag.
I looked down the road to see if I could get the license tag number of the
truck, but it had already left the camping area. The kitten did not look well
at all. It was dirty, and looked as though it had not eaten for quite some
time.
After we returned home, I tried to telephone all three vets located in our
town. Being the Thanksgiving Holiday, none were available until Monday morning.
I took the small kitten to the kitchen sink and tried to wash it off with a
clean warm washrag. Then I tried to feed it something, but it was just too
weak. So, I kept it in my lap all that evening as I watched television. About
ten o'clock I decided to go to bed. I laid the small kitten down beside my
pillow, turned out the light, and climbed into the bed. She pulled herself up
next to my face as tightly as she could. All the while, she was curling herself
tighter and tighter into a small ball of fur. Then she settled down and bundled
up next to my ear.
I did not move a muscle as she tried to clean herself. Once in a while I would
hear a faint "meow.” After she was done, I carefully reached over and ran
my fingers across her little head, causing her inner motor to make a purring
sound.
Over the next few minutes her motor became less and less frequent.
"I love you, Little Missy," I whispered to her, as I carefully moved
my finger back and forth against her ear.
At that very moment her purring stopped completely, and her tiny head fell limp
in my hand. I picked her up gently and carried her into my office, where I laid
her down in a shoebox on top of my computer desk. I turned around and saw Judy
standing in the office doorway.
"Is she doing ok?" she asked me.
I stuck out my hand motioning for her to please go away, that I could not speak
to anyone right then. I sat in my office for more than an hour, wondering how
people could be so cruel to such an innocent little creature.
I left "Little Missy" on my desk until the next morning. I then went
out to the flowerbed where our other two cats are buried and prepared a special
place for her.
I am not sure what the feeling is that comes over me when something is unloved
and discarded. Maybe it's all the years of me being raised as an orphan. Maybe
it is all the terrible things that I too suffered as a young boy, at the hands
of grown up adult people. Maybe it’s the years of going hungry, being kicked,
hit, and then thrown away. I really do not know. Maybe I will never know.
I do know this for sure. Every living thing on this earth should be cared for.
No human being or animal should ever leave the face of this earth, without
having been given a chance to serve its useful purpose. I hope that when
"Little Missy" left this earth last Friday night, the last thing she
remembered was the love shown to her by something known as a human being.
Stories
from The Life and Times of Roger Dean Kiser
I would like to thank Mr. Kiser for his permission to use 'Little Missy' on my page please visit his wonderful site, to read more of his life and times *** KC ***
