Minou the $2500 Cat

“Mom, we found a kitten under a bush,” said my daughter. “Can I keep it, please?”

“No!” I responded.

“There was no mother cat. No other kittens. This little black and white fluff ball was under the bush all alone crying,” she said. “I think it’s very young.”

“No!” I wasn’t giving in. We were already at our pet limit.

“My friend’s dad is highly allergic to cats. He says he’ll bring it to the pound. Please, let me keep it,” she pleaded.

“Okay, but it stays in your room,” I said. “You take care of it.”

When I saw how little he was, I immediately called a friend who is a kitten bottle baby volunteer. I wasn’t prepared to be a bottle baby Mom. She thought he was very young but old enough to eat wet food.

The next day, little Minou (French for kitty) went to the vet. We found out that he was about a month old. Also, we were told that what I hoped was a she was a he, which I assumed would pee all over my house. Lastly, young kittens need their mothers to stimulate them to pee and poop. We would be mimicking the mother cat’s tongue with a Qtip.

“Are you kidding me?!” I asked. “We have to stimulate his minute penis to pee?”

Early one morning, a nine-month old Minou returned home from his usual escapades with a broken leg. He was clean with no other trauma, cuts, scrapes, or blood in his long, black and white coat. In the tiny historic neighborhood, he was a favorite at the corner store. However, no one seemed to know what happened to Minou.

Our usual vet gave us a referral to a veterinary surgeon with the options of a $300 amputation or a $2500 surgery. Our cat was given a morphine shot with a prescription for painkillers until the leg procedure could be scheduled. Minou was asleep and clearly upset, so my daughter didn’t see a need to put him in his carrier.

Three blocks from her apartment, she was involved in a wreck. When the airbags deployed, she jumped out of the car followed closely by the cat. He ran towards her apartment, doped up on morphine, dragging his broken leg. No one could catch him. She assumed he would go home. He knew the way. Despite our efforts, Minou wouldn’t be seen again for six weeks.

How he survived those six weeks, we’ll never know. By the time he was found, his broken leg had started to mend. He needed surgery to repair the damage. And, a permanent steel rod to hold the bone together in his hind leg. Minou was only nine months old and had already proven to be a survivor.

The veterinary surgeon asked why we had not brought him in sooner to have his leg repaired. I explained that Minou had been living on the streets for the past six weeks. A kind man who didn’t recognize him as a neighborhood cat found him. Minou was in a high crime area several miles from home.

“Hey, this cat just ran up on me that I don’t recognize,” the man said. “Are you missing a black and white cat?”

“Yes, does he have a pink nose?” asked my daughter.

“He has a collar with this phone number on it,” laughed the man. “I’ll hold onto him until you get here.”

We were so thankful to this man for finding our beloved cat. He had been missing with his collar and ID tag for six weeks. No one had taken the time to notice a different cat or check his collar until that day.

At the time, I had a heartless neighbor who kept a trap baited with cat food on her porch. Several cats had mysteriously died or disappeared on our street. So, Minou went to live with my daughter in the tiny historic neighborhood for his safety until my upcoming move.

Later, we found out that my daughter also had a cat-hating neighbor. He tore down our missing cat posters. He yelled at my daughter and told her “your cat is gone!” I truly believe that he found Minou at the corner store with the broken leg and dropped him off in the neighborhood where he was found. It’s just too hard to believe that a cat with a broken leg would pass his own house and the store, cross a bridge over the interstate and a busy four-lane road to end up in a strange neighborhood over five miles away.

Today, Minou has grown to be a beautiful, velvety Ragdoll cat with a hind leg that pokes out from the rod. He’s sweet, playful, and snuggles on his terms. He will rub on your legs and ask you to pet his head. Then, he’ll bite you and run off when he’s had enough. Or, he’ll insist on being held like a baby with his arms around your neck.

Minou sits behind my head on the sofa when I watch TV. Conveniently, his tail will fall into my face. I’ll move it only to have it happen again. He acts like he’s asleep but I am sure he’s laughing that evil kitty laugh under his breath. The same one he laughs when he jumps out from behind a door and scares me.

I wish I could make friends as easily as he does. When the little girl from down the street walks by, she always stops to pet “Kitty Baby.” He loves it! Minou has many friends including the other pets in the house. He’s particularly fond of the chiweenie rescue, Bean.

At least once a week, he lies in the middle of the front yard as if he’s dead and scares the crap out of me. I’ve driven half through the grass, slammed the car into park, and run over to him only to have him roll over and look at me like “what?”

“Mom, are you okay?” ask my kids.

“Yes, that jerk cat made me think he was dead again,” I reply.

But, I’m sure we will play out this same scenario again next week! My kids laugh at me! I tell Minou that cats are not supposed to lie in the middle of rooms or yards stretched out like they’re dead! He ignores me. We love him even if he is a jerk.

Minou has been the best therapy cat when someone in the house is dealing with anxiety or depression. He is a dutiful nurse when someone is sick. He waits to greet me when I arrive home every day. Most of all, he’s just so loveable. When it comes to Minou, I’m happy I gave in to that little fur ball found under a bush.