Pet Tails
Poquito’s Story by Stephanie
By the time I got turned around, two cars had whipped past. This did not bode well for the kitten, and I was afraid I would find that the little guy had been hit.
To my surprise and relief, he had made it across the road in one piece and was now hunkered down in the ditch and crying. I scooped him up and he immediately clung to my shirt.
He was a mess. He was very young, only about 5 weeks old. He was filthy, as if he’d been in a greasy garage, and he was covered with burdocks. These had made it hard for him to walk and had stuck his tail to his butt. Which made it difficult for his bodily functions to work properly, if you get my drift. So he was pretty stinky on top of all his other obvious problems.
At this point a guy came out of the house of the driveway I had first spotted the kitten in. Not his cat, but he’d seen it running around he told me as he leapt into his car and sped off. Obviously not his problem, either.
I already had cats at home, all rescued strays, and was not trying to open a homeless shelter but I figured this little fella must be destined to live with me.
I was en route to a doctor’s appointment at the time, so I continued with the kitten in the car with him clinging to my thigh. I stopped at Mark’s The Spot in Bath to pick up a can of cat food for the trip. Everyone in the store came out to see the little refugee after I told the story. Several people offered me more cats, as it appeared that I was
in a cat adopting kind of mode. I
politely declined these kind offers, but I sure hoped for the best for those cats.
The kitten had all the usual parasites, but was otherwise healthy. After a bath he was even cute. He also seemed to be completely unfazed by his experience. I can only assume that he was one of those unfortunate critters that someone tossed out of their car along the road.
Because he was so very tiny I decided to call him Poquito, which means “little bit” in Spanish. But I should have called him Little Devil…even when he weighed mere ounces he was totally fearless and loved to torment my adult cats. And then his name really became a joke as he just kept growing. He now weighs in at 15 pounds, and it’s 15 pounds of muscle and agility, without an ounce of excess avoir du pois.
He’s grown up to be big and handsome and is pretty darned cocky about it. He likes to strut his stuff, and will occasionally pin my smaller cat Jasper to the ground just because he can.
He wrestles with my little dog Boswell, and the two of them are endlessly entertaining to watch. They mostly play fair, but occasionally Bozzy will pinch the cat, who then retaliates with a swat with a little barb to it. Or, Poquito will hook the dog who then must avenge himself and a war erupts. And then like a mother I bark at both of them to knock it off…
Poquito has turned out to be a wonderful companion after his less than auspicious beginning. I’m glad he ran out into the road that fateful day!
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