He just showed up at my door the other night, a little eight week old kitten. Who dumps a tiny kitten?
I tried to say no. Oh, I gave him some food and fixed up a sheltered box for him to sleep in, but I have no room in my house for any more cats.
He's as cute and sweet as can be. I walk out the house and call him, and he comes on the run, meowing all the way. We've named him Indiana Jones because he's intrepid and adventuresome. He has a vet appointment in the morning, but he really, really needs a proper home. Anyone?
UPDATE: So he went to the vet this morning. Passed his AIDS and leukemia tests, but there is no test for distemper so he's going to be in quarantine in the big crate in the garage for the next 2 weeks (no more climbing trees, poor guy). He has ear mites, fleas, and worms, which we will be treating while he's in isolation. Otherwise the vet says he's strong and healthy and just 8 weeks old. He loves to be petted and purrs his heart out. He's a real sweetheart.
A former university professor with an incurable case of wanderlust, I write the Sebastian St. Cyr Regency mystery series under the name of C.S. Harris and thrillers as one half of C.S. Graham. I’ve also written historical romances as Candice Proctor.