June 6, I was working as a home health aide. I was fixing breakfast for my client, Cat Lady. It was warm, and her front door was open. Suddenly, a shrill, distressed squawk was heard. Thinking it was one of her current kittens, she called out, "What's wrong, baby?", and I went to investigate and scold whomever was being too rough. Across the floor came a tiny black kitten in a weak wobble, with another close behind. Spying a bowl, the first kitten lurched to it and climbed completely in, trying to wolf down kibble with baby teeth. She growled and started fighting the second kitten as he joined her.
Cat Lady's current kittens were not black. I picked up the first one, which was wet (it had rained the night before), and you could count every rib. I put her in Cat Lady's lap. Adding the second one, I got a can of wet food and said, "They must have just walked in." Right then, another kitten walked in the open front door. I went out to search and found a fourth in a scooped-out place underneath some old junk. All were too little to be gone from their mother. No neighbors close enough. They answered to kitty, did not fight being picked up, and associated bowls with food. Dumped. No doubt by someone who knew she was a Cat Lady.
That afternoon, American Pharoah won the Belmont, and next shift, I suggested naming one kitten Pharaoh (spelling it right). She said the runt, that first one in, was unnamed, but if I named a kitten, it was mine. So Pharaoh spent three weeks with her siblings in the kitten care unit, growing, gaining weight. Then she came home with me. The name fits. From the first, she was bold, fearless with my other cats, regal, self possessed. I look forward to sharing a lifetime with this one. Of course, her three littermates are fine at Cat Lady's. We were angry at the dumper, but these four at least were taken where someone knew they would be cared for.
Springfield, MO
