When we lost Zoe, I felt too much battered by life to consider getting another cat.  I did say, however, that while I wouldn’t go looking for a cat, if a cat found me it’d be a different story.
Well, apparently Someone out there who looks after tiny kittens was listening.
Wednesday night, my son and his co-workers rescued a very tiny, terrified kitten from under a car. He knew who to call. I certanly wasn’t prepared to take on the care of a kitten this small, but I didn’t want her to go to the shelter, either. So, home she came with us.
We had her checked by the vet yesterday and she’s fine, and about six weeks old (older than I had guessed). She’s had her worm treatment and she needs a bath, which I’ll take care of as soon as I get some kitten friendly flea shampoo.
I’ve named her Jenny Linsky, after the feline heroine of a series of books I loved as a child.
Here is the fictional Jenny Linsky, and here is the real one.
