An employee at the store helped him find what he needed, and he was in and out in less than five minutes. He cracked open the can of kitten milk and used the eyedropper he’d purchased to try and feed the tiny furball. It was starving and tried hard to get every last drop from the dropper.
“Slow down, bud. There’s plenty.”
After the kitten downed what he guessed to be a couple of tablespoons, Jake put the dropper back in the packaging it had come in and set the can of milk in the cup holder of his console.
“Better take it easy at first. You don’t want to get sick. I’ll give you more in an hour or so.” He covered up the kitten so that only its little head was peeking out of the blanket, then rubbed it gently until he could tell it was nice and dry and on the verge of sleep.
Geez, if anyone saw him now. What a sucker.
He cleared from his break with dispatch and was sent immediately to a disabled vehicle on the northbound side of I-405. At least it was on the shoulder and not blocking, which was a miracle on the 405. Most of the highway through town had no shoulder, and one broken-down car could easily mess up traffic for an entire afternoon.
The county and city officers all joked that being a trooper was just triple-A with a badge. While they responded to the domestic violence calls and bank robberies, the troopers changed tires and called tow trucks. It was a running joke that rang true a lot of the time, especially on day shift.
During his lunch break, before he fed the kitten again, he picked it up to try and determine whether it was a boy or a girl. He was unsuccessful and decided to give it a unisex name.
“How about Lucky? That sounds appropriate given the circumstances. Sorry about your siblings, by the way. I’ll give them a proper burial out at the farm after work.”
He fed Lucky two more times during the day and saw a marked difference in just the few hours it had been warm and fed. The day was so busy he hadn’t had a chance to call Hannah. Thinking she would like the little bugger, he decided he might as well take it home.
Hannah met him at the door. “What have you got?” she asked.
“This is Lucky,” said Jake, handing him over to Hannah. “He’s been my mascot for the day. I actually have no idea if it’s a boy or a girl. I just keep referring to it as a him.”
“Oh my gosh,” she squealed. “He’s sooo cute.” She grasped him with both hands and walked to the couch to sit down. “Are you going to keep him?” she asked between snuggles.
“Probably easier than trying to find it a home. Do you want him?”
She looked up. “I would love to take him, but I don’t know if my apartment allows cats. I wonder if I’ve ever had a pet? Or, if I didn’t, why not? I wasn’t home enough to care properly for a dog, but I could’ve handled a cat for sure.”
“Well, if you want him, he’s yours. If not, we’ll find a place for him here.”
Hannah smiled at the cat. “Where did you get him?”
Jake frowned and told her the story. “That reminds me, I’ve got to take care of his brothers and sisters. I’m going to change and do that now before I shower. You okay with him?”
“Oh, yes,” she cooed to the cat like it was a newborn baby. “We’ll be fine. Won’t we, Lucky?” She brought the cat up to eye level.
Jake shed his uniform, put on some jeans, and headed to the barn for a shovel. Dirk was brushing one of the horses.
“Evening, Jake. How’s it going?” Dirk asked. “What’s in the bag?”
“Dead kittens.”
Dirk’s eyebrows shot up.
“Don’t ask. People suck,” Jake said, then explained anyway. “I found ’em on the side of the road this morning. One survived, but barely. I’m still not sure he’ll make it, but he’s inside.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
Jake asked about a shovel, and once Dirk brought him one, he told him what he was doing and where.
As he headed out the barn door, Dirk called out, “Hey, Jake. Not all people suck. Don’t forget that.”
Dirk didn’t suck, but Jake did. He’d been determined to tell Hannah his secret tonight, but she was so happy with the kitten. He didn’t want to ruin her evening, and one more day couldn’t hurt.
He and Dirk had determined a while ago that with the types of animals they were taking in, they would need a pet cemetery. They’d already designated a place, and it even had an occupant. He’d put the kittens next to the old mare they’d buried last year. At least this hole would be much smaller.
Zipping up his jacket against the cold, he grabbed the flashlight out of his patrol car, took the shovel and the bag, and started the short trek to the other side of the farm.
