‘No good deed goes unpunished’

That is one of the corollaries to Murphy’s Law, and it applies to me, I suppose.

It started when a calico kitty I had called Pretty Girl showed up with three kittens, and was renamed Mama Cat. By the time I saw them, the little ones were already up and cavorting, and too fast for me to catch. Even if I could have caught them, I wouldn’t have been sure what to do with them. I’m not in the market for pets, no matter how cute. I left them out some water and hoped they’d go someplace where folks would feed them.

They were spending a lot of time under our cars. Not good, because years ago, even after chasing kittens out from under my car, I had run over one. I still remember it, and do not want to do it again, ever. So this time I was extra careful. I beat on whichever car I was going to drive more than usual and even shouted underneath.

Why, on a particular day, Mama Cat and one kitten did not run when I came out to the car, puzzled me. I had already noticed that three kittens had become two, which happens sometimes with feral cats. Maybe now it was down to one. Mama cat was really meowing.

I made my trip, and as I was carrying the groceries in, I heard not just Mama Cat and one kitten, but another kitten. And the “nother” kitten sounded like it was coming from my car.

Oh, no I thought. Well, that’s not exactly what I thought, what I really thought can’t be printed here, but I knew I was going to have to investigate.

After I got the groceries in, I opened the hood on the car. There was no kitten tangled in a fan belt – something I have seen in the past. But if that had been the case, I would have already known. In fact, there was no kitten anywhere. Until...and my jaw dropped. I had finally caught a glimpse of kitten.

On my car, there exists a small space between the radiator and grill. In that space, was a kitten. How it got there I couldn't figure and still can’t. Obviously, the kitten, having gotten in, couldn’t figure how to get out either, although it had some freedom of movement.

I could not find a place, high or low, where I could reach in and get the critter. I looked through the grill and there it was, looking back at me. Mama Cat was having a fit.

Look, I’m not cruel to animals. I knew I couldn’t leave the little creature in there or it would die. I didn’t want that on my conscience. It would have been even worse than that time I ran over one.

And although it wasn’t my main concern, I wasn’t looking forward to having a decomposing cat next to my radiator. Be honest, folks, there’s not a person reading this who would look forward to that any more than I did.

I finally found a place under the car, with smallish bolts, that I might undo and get into that space where the kitten was trapped. Pliers didn’t do it. Finally a ratchet wrench did. Two bolts and I managed to wedge my hand and arm in to save the kitten. Meanwhile, Mama Cat was within feet of me, as if to say, “Don’t hurt my baby.” “Look, lady, I’m trying to save your blasted kid’s bacon,” I said, as if I thought she could understand me.

Only, the kitten didn’t want to be saved. Not by me, anyway. I should have realized. Even tame animals don’t always know when you’re trying to help them, and this was a feral kitten.

So I had to try several times, with the kitten scrambling around in that little space, before I finally got ahold of it. Once I got it right to the opening and it got away. I admit, I did not say “Here, kitty, kitty.” Again, what I said cannot be printed in a polite publication. I further admit I was none too gentle the second time I caught the little booger. I had to get the dadgum cat out of there.

Finally the kitten was out. It, Mama Cat and the sibling skedaddled. Perhaps they, or at least that one, learned not to climb into cars. Or not.

So I did get the kitten out my car, thus saving my conscience, and knowing I did a good deed. And what else did I get out of it? Well, I have not received a thank-you note from Mama Cat for saving her kitten’s life, not that I expected one. Then again, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of any of them since, which could be a plus.

There’s one other thing I got. Up and down my right arm, the one I went kittencatching with, I have a number of colorful bruises, which are painful to the touch.

All in all, though, I guess I did get some benefit out of my actions. Therefore I will change what I said at the beginning of this column to say, no good deed goes ENTIRELY unpunished. Meantime – Oh, my poor arm.