On this day however, it was not to end in the same manner. Driving home on a three-lane highway doing 100 kilometres an hour, we see ahead of us a tiny black furry bundle trying it's best to trot across the road. Thank goodness, it spent most of its time on the side of the road as the vehicles whizzed by - hissing and arching its back in a vain attempt to scare these mighty big predators away. We skidded to a halt, causing a chain reaction behind us, and I jumped out to carry out the rescue. Of course, he ran away and hid up inside of a telephone cable box, but undaunted, I yanked him out and we both made it back to the car safely.
I took the kitten, with a temporary name of Isha (meaning night in Arabic), to the local vet who pronounced him fit and healthy, but only 3 weeks old and weighing in at an amazing 360 grams. He was a skinny little thing, with a light dusting of fur - either because of malnutrition, or because he was such a baby, or maybe that's just how desert cats have adapted to plus fifty condition.
Over the next few days he proceeded to eat like a horse at every opportunity, and when he wasn't doing that he was fast asleep, curled up in a scarf that I wrapped around me like a baby bundle. He snuggled in and would only open his big blue eyes once in awhile and then try to stand - his way of saying "I want food now please". I found powdered kitten milk and fed him by bottle at first, but within a few tries he had chewed the teat right off so he had to learn pretty fast to eat like the big cats do. Litter training didn't take all that long either - it helps if you are at home and watching his every move! Unfortunately, we also probably started him on a lifelong journey of sleeping on the bed with the owner. I just felt too bad to lock him up in a bathroom at night - he had already faced far too much trauma and loss, and I wasn't going to add to it. It's great when husbands think the same thing!
The problem, of course, was what to do with him in the future. At this point, we know we are on our way back to Western civilization and the thought of dumping him at the local QAWS, who have their hands full with dozens and dozens of abandoned and feral animals, was just not on.
Thank goodness for empathetic friends - an appeal on Facebook and a few discussions with great friends - and what do you know - Isha has a real home. His journey from Doha to Toronto was fraught with perils - mainly from disbelieving "experts" who were adamant that no cats under three months of age, or without a rabies injection and the required four week quarantine, would ever be allowed out of Doha. They did not reckon with my persistence and obstinancy.
I went along to the State of Qatar Animal Health Department, with all my documentation off the web from Canadian Immigration and Agriculture, and the cutest little photo I could find. I insisted on speaking to the "man-in-charge" - gave him my sob story and what do you know! - State of Qatar Health Certificate signed, sealed and stamped. Then it was off to a sceptical vet - "you better make sure you have the right information from Canada", who signed and stamped his approval on the Vet Certificate.
Next, bought a flight cabin pet carrier, stuck the scarf inside, with a small litter tray and presented our "excess baggage" to Lufthansa, passport control, airport security and gate staff, and finally, Canada Customs, all of whom nonchalantly looked inside and said: "aw, cute!" and left us to it. We completed our 17 hour journey without further ado or mishap.
Saladin (his real name now - and the name of an Arabic leader who was a Sultan of Egypt and Syria, known for his chivalrous behaviour) is safely ensconced with his new family and having a ball I hear!
Insha'Allah
Insha'Allah
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