A bundle of fur by Charles Roberts




I go for a walk most afternoons, and this Saturday in June was no exception.  I felt good so I thought that I would go the whole fifteen kilometres.  I had my MP3, I have some music with a good beat to it to march to, on and the app on my mobile had just told me that I had just reached the four kilometre mark.  I was walking on the dirt track by the side of the motorway towards Almanzora, Queen and Bowie were blasting out ‘Under Pressure’ when I heard a faint meow.  Must be hearing things, I thought, a few more steps and another meow.  I stopped and looked around, at the olive grove to my right, back down the way I had come, up the track in front of me; meow, to the scrub on the other side of the fence and the bottom of the banking up to the motorway, meow.  What the hell is it and where is it?  Then I saw a movement under one of the scrubby bushes, it suddenly appeared and came through the chicken wire fence, a small slate grey kitten.  It just walked up to me meowing and rubbed round my legs, I switched Tina off and bent down to pick the little one up, it started purring straight away.  I looked around for its mama or any other kittens, what are you doing here miles from anywhere I asked it, there can’t be a house or anything within a kilometre or more, but you’re well fed, where have you come from?  Well I can’t leave you here.  So I undid a button on my shirt and put her inside, then fastened the button again.

          What do I do now? Do I carry on with my walk?  What can I call her?  I thought about four K as I had just passed the four K mark when I found her, or fifteen K because that’s the walk I was on.  In the end we decided on Dusty because of her slate grey, or ‘blue’ fur. I looked down at the head peeking out of my shirt front and set off for home after turning Tina back on. Arriving home about an hour later, the first thing my sister-in-law said was no.  I took a picture and went on Facebook to see it anyone wanted her, but the only response was ‘isn’t it beautiful and aww’  Monday we took her to the Vets who told us that she was about six weeks old and to come back in two weeks for her injections; which we did.  Then when she was five months old we took her for her operation and a chip fitting.  She is now seven months old and a bolshie teenager, bouncing off the back of our fourteen year old cat and running round like a mad thing; I just wish that I had her energy.


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