Jessie

Jim travels now as part of his job, and several weeks ago he was working in beautiful mountainous Virginia. While he was in the clinic teaching the veterinarians how to use ultrasound, this sick, abused little orange boy was brought in. Jim rarely tells me about the sad animals he sees because he knows it breaks my heart. In this case, he did tell me the little kitten was so ill he couldn't walk and would stumble and fall. He was mistreated, and that is all I know- no need for heart-wrenching details. So my husband, who tells me that the sad cases bother him more than he admits, told the clinic that if this kitten survived, we wanted him. And last Friday Birdy, my green beetle, and I set out for Virginia to bring him home. He did survive his illness, but it will take lots of time and love for him to forget his past. The drive was about 5 hours, and I arrived midafternoon, with the original plan that I was to stay at the vet's guest house. However, she had been called out on several farm animal issues and would be gone for hours. I decided to scoop up the kitty and head for home. He settled quietly into his carrier, but every time I glanced down at him, he was staring at me through the holes. I tried to talk nicely to him as we drove, telling him that life was going to get better now. The last half hour of our trip that day was after dark, winding down through the mountains of West Virginia with truckers flying past Birdy going at least 85 miles an hour to our 70. We stopped at a motel for the night, my nerves pretty much shot. I had fortunately had the foresight to stop and purchase a litter pan and food bowl- and even a mouse toy- before we left, so I set the little fellow up in the room. He ran immediately and hid under the bed, which I pretty much expected. I sat on the floor and let him come to me, which, being a kitten, didn't take too long. He was very skittish and afraid of my hand reaching for him, so I pretty much just tried to talk to him and be there. Because the bed was too high for him to jump on and off of, I pulled the mattress off the box springs and set up my bed on the floor, which was actually very comfortable. Before I went to sleep, he had crawled onto the mattress and curled up at my feet- a good sign. We spent the next 24 hours in the room, which was beneficial to us both. I enjoyed the rest and quiet, and kitten had a chance to get to know just me before we arrived home to his fellow furry siblings. I tried to think of a new name for him- I wanted his previous name(which I have intentionally not used) to stay behind. It needed to be the name of a survivor, and I thought and puzzled, and talked to Jim for his suggestions. In the end, Leah (who also had a say in this) and I decided he should be named Jes- my husband's initials. Jim has survived some real trials in his life, plus he found Jes to begin with- or Jes found him, I think.