Friday, September 1, 2006

From  (It's a GEM!)

by Roger Dean Kiser

      The rain was coming down so hard that I could hardly see the road.
      I looked behind me at the mother cat who was on the back seat of my truck.  And then I looked at the box beside me, carrying her three kittens.
      For weeks I had tried to find them a home.  Two kittens were
lucky and we found them good homes in the neighborhood.  The mother cat was going into heat again and every male cat within five miles was camping on our front porch.
      I had not slept for two days and I was grasping at my final
straw.  We already had five dogs and five cats in our home there was no way we could bring anymore inside.  For weeks I had tried to get the Humane Society or animal control to help, but to no avail.
      Over the past five years we have saved many animals who were beaten and mistreated.  Then there is little Cinnamon who had her leg torn off by five teenagers.  The cost to save her, and the all the others, wiped out our savings as well as the money we had saved for  our granddaughter's education.
      For almost a year I went off my own medications to try and save these animals.  Now, at the end of my rope, my son and I loaded the cats into my truck and I was heading to the local camp ground to drop off this family of animals.
      I just didn't know what else to do.
      By the time I reached the camp ground the rain was coming down so hard that I could not see the dirt road.  Once again, I looked back at the mama cat and she just looked and meowed, quietly, several  times.
      Trying not to look at the cardboard box, I felt the tears begin
to roll down my cheeks.  I slammed my hand onto the steering wheel, as hard as I could, knowing that my heart was taking over what my mind was trying to get me to do.
      Without thinking twice, I turned around and headed toward home.       Unable to reach my wife, Judy, on the telephone I left a message  on her answering machine.  Unable to talk without crying, I left a choked message which I know was inaudible.
      After reaching home I fed the family of cats and walked next
door to my son's house.  I was told that he had been on the phone begging his friends to take the kittens but no one was interested.
He then went into the bathroom and that is where he stayed and would not come out.  I walked outside and waited for about twenty minutes before Roger Jr. finally appeared.
      "How do you feel?" he asked me.
      "I feel pretty good," I replied.
      "How can you feel good, Dad?"
      "I suppose because the mama cat and her three kittens are up on the porch eating their supper."
      The boy's eyes got real big and he grabbed hold of me.  I have received hugs from my son throughout the years but never one like that one.
      "I'll help you Dad.  We'll find them a home, I promise," he
said, with tears in his eyes.
      "Sounds good to me, son."
      I suppose sometimes being at the end of your rope is really just the beginning of another rope.
      For some reason, I have been renewed and I will continue my work to make sure than no child, or animal, is ever abandoned, or
mistreated as we kids were in that terrible Jacksonville, Florida,
      I suppose you have to see the outside world from inside a
cardboard box to really understand.

            -- Roger Dear Kiser   <trampolineone @>



yankeygr said...

Exellant! I loved this story! I love people that do things like that, too! You know, put animals and others before themselves.       Love, Rhonda

sugarsweet056 said...

Very nice entry.