the truth about cats and blogs

I mounted my bicycle for the two mile trip to Johnson City Medical Center on August 1st. After a lengthy auto commute in July, I was excited to enjoy the fresh air. It was early, but the sun was peeking out and it was summer in Tennessee. I rode through the VA campus and passed my medical school on the left. As I approached the hospital, the first rays of sun glistened on the dingy gutters lining the road. I caught a glimpse of a puffy tail disappearing underground as I rode by.
I wonder what that was.
There was construction around the medical center and in some ways I envied the workers. I was trapped in stale air conditioning all day while they labored in the sun. They ate lunch under a tree. I saw them working or resting on my afternoon ride home. I wondered if they envied me, getting to work indoors with my mind instead of my body.
The next day I came upon the gutters more slowly. Two baby blue eyes met mine from inside the drain.
I think that's a kitten.
As quickly as I thought those words, the creature was gone. I looked again for him on the way home, but he was nowhere to be found. The rest of the week I searched in vain. My husband, Adam, also worked at the Medical Center. I told him to watch for this mysterious creature as he rode his bike to work. The next week I saw Adam in the emergency department. We smiled at each other.
"I saw your kitten." He told me. I was happy to have reassurance since I had also seen the kitten that morning. This time he was scoping out the grass around the gutter, but again raced to safety as I approached. I wondered if the loud construction noises bothered him. I wondered why he was alone. Did his siblings die? Or was he misplaced?
After work I walked my bicycle down the road. I looked more carefully into the gutter and saw the kitten's mother. There were no other kittens, and his mother looked sickly and undernourished. Apparently someone else previously noticed this situation because there was a large pile of cat food in their den. I decided this must have been the construction workers who saw the kitten as they lunched in the shade. How kind. Okay, these creatures are being taken care of. I certainly do not need any more responsibilities.
That night I woke from sleep during a torrential downpour. My first thought was the kitten, shivering and soaked in the drain, with his mother crying because their food stash was being washed away. I could not fall back to sleep and the next day told Adam my revelation.
"I have to rescue that kitten. We could care for it until it is strong, and then find a better home for it."
Adam, who is used to my crazy schemes, told me that if I could capture it, we could rescue it. I did not understand his cynical snicker at the time. How hard could it be?

That night I gathered supplies: soft cat food, treats, our pet carrier, and string attached to the carrier door. When I came near the hospital, I immediately saw the kitten in the grass. I approached like a ninja and set up close enough that he could smell the soft cat food inside the carrier. I lay in the grass on the side of an embankment ten feet away, clutching the string. I knew I would only have one chance. I lay in the grass for a long time. My muscles cramped and I began to have doubts. Kitten was scared. He knew that I lurked somewhere nearby and could sense danger. It took kitten two hours to bravely enter the carrier, with hunger finally winning out over fear. I pulled the string as hard as I could. Trapped! I ran to the carrier to clasp the door. The kitten was slamming his body against it, trying in vain to free himself.
I told him that it was okay. On the car ride home he slurped up an entire bowl of food. At home, Adam could not believe that I had succeeded. We brought the kitten to the spare bedroom and closed the door. We examined him. He hissed at us and ran behind the bed.
Over the next few weeks we fell in love. We named him Omega after the philosophy of the "omega point" which asserts that a certain combination of factors leads to perfect satisfaction and happiness. We set aside talk of adoption. When we found him, Omega weighed less than one pound, was 6-8 weeks old, and could not chew solid food. He is now a healthy, happy cat. And we have found our omega point.