Steinbeck

I'm probably misquoting here, but something happened yesterday that made me think of John Steinbeck's line: There are things that look out from behind human eyes, but they themselves are not human.  No kidding.  I was on my way to work, walking in the rain, enjoying the cool mist after such a long heat wave here in New York, when I saw an SUV stop in the middle of the road and throw their garbage out the window.  I was about half a block away, thought, "Pig" and continued forward, planning on taking their lunch bag or take-out junk or whatever trash it was and tossing it in the Subway outdoor garbage can, which was nearby.  As I reached the spot, there was no garbage, no bag, nothing except...a kitten.  A teensy, tiny, mewling, starved and filthy little kitten.  The scum suckers had thrown it right out the window and driven away.  If I'd known what it was, I would have memorized their license plate number so I could report them.  I picked the poor thing up and thought at first that his eyes were burned or something because they were still closed and gluey looking.  I ran to the 711 down the street, bought a can of wet cat food and proceeded to coax the little sack of bones to eat.  I called work and told them what happened.  They were great, said, "take care of the cat and don't worry about it."  Then I took it home.  Right now, I'm ridiculously poor; I rent a room in a house and don't even have a car so I was sweating bullets about what to do.  Thankfully, my landlady, who is awesome beyond words and owns three cats herself, knew what to do.  As I bathed and dried him, she went to the store and got supplies.  She's already called some pet rescue places which will look at the kitty tomorrow and give it a checkup and maybe even shots for a nominal fee.  I swabbed his eyes all night (yep, he's a boy) and hydrated them with drops, coaxing him to eat a tiny thimbleful of food, which he did about every hour or so.  It was very scary during the night because he was so still and producing so little body heat that I thought he was dead.  Well, today he perked up enormously, eating like a pig, taking a teeny dump in his new litter box, and valiantly trying to cover it up even though he was barely able to stand.  I adore him.  We're going to try and adopt him out once he's got some meat on his bones.  He's a pretty little silver tabby, looks to be about five weeks old but I'm not sure.  His eyes are much better than they were even yesterday so I suspect dehydration as the culprit.  Hopefully, anyway.  Wish me luck on his recovery and swift adoption to a good home.  I'll keep you posted on his progress as time goes on. Good thing I like to walk in the rain.