23rd December 2015
“We just couldn’t leave her there…”
Wednesday 23rd of December was pretty much a chaotically ordinary day here at the Mission, but all of that changed around 7pm when we received a call about a wee kitten who had become precariously wedged (and we do mean wedged) between two metal sheds. We were to learn that the little mite had been trapped there for at least two days with her pitiful cries desperately pleading for help. Our first glimpse of the tri-coloured feline caused our hearts to sink, as all our eyes could glimpse in the narrow space was a clump of lifeless fur. It was even difficult to determine if this was in fact a creature or just a mere scrap of material that had lodged amongst the debris that had collected there over the years. The kind heart who had reached out for our help had already began pulling palings from a fence and removing scathes of ivy before we arrived and watched on anxiously as the situation was assessed. And it did indeed seem hopeless. So narrow was the space between the two sheds that nothing could be passed from either side to push the kitten through or pull the kitten back. The only way she could have gotten into the space was from falling from the roof, and sadly she had fallen so far down that nothing could be passed from the top to retrieve her. Our hearts began to sink, as still the kitty hadn’t made a noise.
But then she did; a pitiful heart-wrenching mew and another, just as pitiful heart-wrenching mew! Whilst phone call after phone call brought us no closer to getting the kitten out, it did bring us closer to the setting of the sun. Leaving the helpless and hapless creature there until morning was not an option if there was to be a chance of her surviving. With the heat over the last few days it was indeed a miracle the tiny kitten was even alive, let alone still having the will to do so. With necessity the mother of invention and good manners our guide, permission was obtained as we set to work dismantling one of the sheds. This was indeed our one and only option. Whether it was sheer strength or just an old shed, a panel was relatively quickly peeled back which gave a window of opportunity for an intrepid hand to blindly probe for the bundle of fur. “I’ve got her,” was all we needed to ensure the metal sheeting didn’t spring back into place and squash the now constantly mewing baby. “Quick grab the towel,” and the kitten was free, palpable was the relief, joy and satisfaction that the impossible had become the possible.
Pitifully thin, severely dehydrated but alive, the little tortoiseshell kitten received more love in those first few minutes than she had ever seen in her life. High fives were had, voices became croaky and faith in humanity was restored as the kind heart, who first made the call and who refused to leave the scene the entire time we were there, offered these simple words “We just couldn’t leave her there.” And he was right.