Save-able stray.

Last night, I experienced my first failure in my non-professional-animal-saving-career.
Shortly after the rice incident and as I was enjoying my Thai leftovers [what? you wait until the next day?] I heard the unmistakable cry of a kitten.
After coaxing it with milk, Jenna and I and her new-found UVU basketball player friend bravely scooped up the kitten in a blanket and called the Orem dispatch.
The ride to the shelter was a long one. Claws were flexing, the poor thing was in constant tremor and it kept turning around and looking at me with murderous eyes. Call me crazy but I don't think he knew we were saving him.

The wait for the officer at the shelter was even longer. I know he was getting donuts and sniffing flowers. To make matters worse, the kitten [which I affectionately temporarily named Crookshanks] could smell the ..intricacies of the shelter, and didn't like that we had stopped there. We decided to put the kitten in the small cage outside the front door. Bad idea. Crookshanks was very skinny [:(] and managed to squeeze his head through the holes/door/underneath of the cage about a billion times, only to be pushed back inside- which of course got him in a right state. By the time the officer got there, wiping crumbs from his lap, the situation was dire.

To make a long story short, [about that] Crookshanks escaped.

We chased, we coaxed, we failed.

Moral of the story: SPAY and NEUTER folks!!

[I'm praying for you shanks. May your empty belly lead you back to the shelter unscathed.]