An Angel Under My Roof

I know that his dad and I raised Griffin to be a loving and compassionate soul, but it was really hammered home this past weekend that we had done a fairly decent job teaching him the proper values everyone should possess in life.

He was out with his girlfriend, her brother and sister when they happened upon a cat that had been hit by a car and left for dead with a broken leg and some seriously deep cuts. It had survived the initial accident but then had plainly been unable to get back home for some time as it was deathly thin with every last rib clearly showing. They brought the cat back to Griffin's girlfriend's house and fed it with her own cat's food and gave it water. Then they filled a cat carrier with a blanket and gently put the cat inside. As it had on a collar with current rabies tags, they called the vet who had vaccinated the cat only to get a rather surly answering service flunky who refused to contact anyone associated with the vet's office. They took the cat around the neighborhood where they had found it, knocking on door after door, hoping to find anyone who recognized the cat or could point them in the direction of a possible owner, again to no avail. A call to our local Animal Control resulted in being told the office was closed for the weekend and any emergencies should be directed to the local police department who would then page the Animal Control officer on call, but who in turn upon talking with the oh-so-helpful dispatch officer, told my son that they would not under any circumstances page Animal Control as this was not their responsibility. With no other options and after making one last phone call to them, Griffin, his girlfriend and her two siblings drove several towns away to the closest emergency veterinary hospital with the poor cat, who was immediately whisked away by a vet tech who was waiting for the cat's arrival. Griffin was told that they would try to stabilize the cat and would hand the cat over to their local Animal Control the following morning, but beyond that they couldn't make any promises as to the cat's survival or what would happen to it if it did survive. Griffin spent a long worried night wondering what this poor cat's fate would be.

The next afternoon Griffin called the animal hospital and had decided that if the cat was going to make it and an owner couldn't be located that he would give the kitty a permanent home. But alas, this story has a very happy ending thanks to my son and his companions: with the proper medical attention it had received that previous night the cat was going to survive its injuries, it had come back from the brink of starvation and from its tags his owner had been located and was happily coming to bring him back home.

My kid kicks ass. He really does.

Red, Red Kitty Head courtesy of Eric Hew on flickr.