There’s a kitten in the yard!” my daughter yelled. “We have to go rescue her!” “We already have a cat,” I reminded Lindsey, but she was already out the door.
We couldn’t very well rescue every stray we ran across. At least our calico, Macie, lived in the garage, coming in and out as she pleased through a side door. We’d already given one kitten a place to thrive, and I wasn’t going to mother another one.
I found Lindsey outside. The tiny gray kitten sat against a wall, shaking. Her eyes were wide with terror. Lindsey knelt down beside her. “I’m going to get some food,” she told me. But when Lindsey stood up, the kitten ran off.
“It’s just as well,” I said. “She’ll find the mama cat.” I hoped that was true. Please, Lord, I said to myself, send an angel to watch over that gray kitten.
Weeks passed with no sign of the kitten. Sometimes I felt guilty when I fluffed Macie’s bed and considered how cozy she was in her home. I hoped the stray had found someone to protect her too.
One morning Lindsey and I went into the garage to give Macie fresh food and water. A gray streak ran outside through the side door. The kitten! “She’s been right here all along?” Lindsey said. Macie purred from her bed like a proud mama cat. And I guessed she was the angel I’d prayed for!
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