2009-07-23 - 1:20 a.m.
Dear Rana Dasgupta
What did you do last weekend? Were you out promoting your book? I hope that it's selling well and that, whatever you did, you enjoyed yourself.
Here's what I did this weekend. (And thanks for agreeing to be my pen pal.)
************
I arrived at home from work on Saturday evening and the boy next door popped his head out the window to inform me that there are cats living under my car. I really like the kid next door. We've played catch on the road a couple of times. He thinks that I'm good at catch and I pretend that I don't already know. Fun times.
Anyways, it wouldn't have surprised me in the least if there were cats living under the car. I ride my bike almost everywhere and use the car once a week, if that. Furthermore, there is no shortage of stray cats in this neighborhood. And lately it seems like they've been very busy making babies. At nighttime the whole cat situation is, quite frankly, pretty creepy. Motionless eyes gleam from the spaces between houses and from underneath bushes and the lonely-sounding high-pitched mews of kittens may be heard coming from unlikely places. Many times I've been woken up by cats fighting nearby and, one time, their fighting noises twisted my dream into a nightmare before waking me. I got down on the concrete and looked under the car. There was nothing to see there except oil drips. Perhaps the cats had already moved on? I thanked the neighbor boy and went inside.
Shuhei had already left for work. I was slicing tomatoes when I heard the oh-so familiar mews outside. I grabbed an umbrella which I intended to use as a poking device and investigated the car again. Still nothing underneath, but another mew assured me that I was close. Strange... where were the cats? I assumed that they had crawled up onto something under the car and decided that I would scare them out. That sounded something like this: Clonk! Clonk! Clonk! (The sound of my umbrella hitting the bumper.) Bad kitties! You can't live here! Time to move, kitties! Let's go!
No movement. More mewing. I was now certain that, although I couldn't see them, there were cats in the car and I was unsure as to how to proceed. I clonked on the bumper a few more times, this time less to flush out cats than to attract the attention of the kid next door who presence I realized I would welcome.
Success! The kid next door came out, bringing a flashlight with him. (What a smart, nice kid!) He got down on the ground, wiggled under the car a little and had a look around. (At first, I was impressed that he didn't care about how dirty he was getting, but then I quickly felt stupid for that impression as it's unlikely that many boys his age treat their clothes any differently.) Still no sign of cats. I opened the hood. He spotted them first. (What a smart kid!) Tiny kittens were curled up next to the car's battery.
His hands were small enough to reach the nook they'd settled into, but he didn't have enough space to pull the kittens straight out. Instead, we worked as a team, him passing the kittens sideways to me and me maneuvering them around the tubes and cables in the way of freedom. I got a shoebox and a little towel and made the little kittens a far nicer home than that of a nook next to a car battery.
By then we'd attracted the attention of the neighbor kid's little sister and mom, Grandma Kawakami, and the guy across the street who takes freakishly good care of his garden. Little sister was delighted. Mom seemed apprehensive (probably knowing that her kids would want to keep the kittens). Grandma Kawakami, who has made a very successful hobby of knowing as much as possible about everyone in the neighborhood, told me about other people who had found kittens this year, and also how many. The guy across the street kept busy watering his garden and pretending not to notice us.
At this point, more mewing surprised us all. There was another kitten in the car. The guy from across the street came over, followed shortly thereafter by his wife and, to make long story short, an hour later me, six neighbors, a car jack, and a screwdriver had removed a third (and final) kitten from a panel behind the wheel well.
Three kittens! So cute! Now, what to do with them?
Grandma Kawakami insisted that they had to be put down. I was inclined to pander to the children and to at least pretend that I was going to keep them and love them forever. (Grandma Kawakami never did seem to understand that I really don't need three kittens and that that part was for the benefit of the kids.)
The kittens were very small and I was skeptical about their odds of surviving without their mom. On the one hand, if I left them outside their mom could take care of them, though that may only mean dragging them back up into the car. On the other hand, if I take the kittens inside I know that they won't cause more trouble for me or anyone else, but, as I have no intention of keeping three kittens, that means accepting responsibility for an Imminent and Terrible Decision.
Three kittens! So cute! Now, what to do with them?
TO BE CONTINUED...
