It was Saturday morning, a very hot day here in the South Woods of North Mississippi, the 24th of July, 2004 to be exact. HOT!
Lisa (my wife) and I were browsing the tables and shelves of the many dealers set up at our local Saturday Flea Market, just about ready to head to the house and the nice cool air furnished by the monster air conditioner in our front room, when I spotted a box sitting in front of a dealer's table. Nothing special about the box, other than the fact that it was swaying back and fourth. Soft bumps, scritches and meows were coming from the box. My curiosity got the best of me so I went over to look inside. The box was taped shut. There was one hole in the side just below the top about 2 inches x 5 inches, what probably was intended, by the manufacturer of whatever originally was packed in it, to be a 'hand hole' .
The dealer, a middle-aged woman, noticed me and shouted out, "Don't touch that box. If you want a cat say so and I'll get you one out!" (Very Friendly lady indeed.)
My systems went instantly on full alert. I'm wondering, "Does this woman have live creatures taped up in this box, sitting in the sun (it was in the high 90s that day), with no air holes?" And without thinking, I stated much the same out loud. That didn't set well right quick, but I didn't care. I'm not one to see small animals mistreated in any way, and will come to their defense immediately, sometime getting myself in trouble. But, there it is.
Almost reluctantly she opened the box for me, I took one look at the little ones squirming all over their Mom, squinting at the bright light, the mom panting like a hunting hound after a long chase, and I called for my wife to come quick.
NOTE: We had already rescued a little cream colored tabby back in May of the same year, and had two older ones, also rescues. We were almost over our limit as to what we could afford to support at home.
After a heated conversation,
inspection of all the little ones, and
a final decision to NOT take one or
all, if for nothing more than to save
them from the heat by taking a booth
and tending to them until someone
came by and adopted them, my wife
turned away. As she turned to go,
one little creature came jumping and
scrabbling out of the box, caught her
pant leg, and scrambled up to her
neck where it snuggled close under her long hair, and began to purr noisily. He was a pitiful looking little thing, scrawny, filthy, and quite smelly.
I could tell the smell and cleanliness meant nothing to M'Lady as her eyes began to sparkle, a big smile slowly spread across her lovely little face, and she quietly told me "We want to go home now!"
I didn't say a word, just turned and led her and her newest rescue to the car, where a padded box just happened to be on the back seat waiting for an occupant.
16 miles later, Rowdy was welcomed home by his newly adopted family. With all his kittenish glee, Tegar, the youngest, just adopted into the family the 22nd of May, took charge. After a brief introduction all around, a nap was instigated by the new kid on the block. Tegar supervised, and shortly after the little one fell asleep on the pad, 'Big Brother' joined his newly adopted baby brother in snuggling down for a long nap.
We knew then something was not quite right with the little one, because he had not even sniffed the food and water he was introduced to.