|I'm not sure why, but this photo is slightly elongated.;/|
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
So I saw it and decided I'd just catch it and carry it home. That was a lot easier to say than to do. At least twenty minutes later, I gave up and went home.
At home, I told my brother the story. He immediately decided he wanted a cat and told me. About five minutes later, me, him, and my sister started walking. It was a long walk.
We got there with a bucket and a plastic bag and spent even more time than I had at first to catch it. But we did, and it was now in a plastic bucket with holes in the lid. It wasn't my idea.
At home, we set up a little box for it to live in, and my brother got some milk. While they immediately fed it the first thing they could think of, I went upstairs and did some research. I came back from my research with the knowledge that their milk would give it diarrhea and what it really needed was powdered milk, mixed with Karol syrup and an egg. I made it and fed the cat.
My parents weren't mad, like I thought they would be. My mom gave us some rules, and my dad told us the cat would die within a few days.
The next day, my brother made it a much larger and more permanent enclosure and set it in there with some blankets and milk. (Yep. I know. His mentality was that milk was better than nothing and it was impossible to make the Karol syrup stuff. I figured I'd let him learn from experience, when the cat shat all over him one day)
My mom started having second thoughts about the whole thing near the evening. She decided that the cat should go back. To it's mother. I'd kind of felt that too in my mind, but I figured I would just do my research and make sure it lived. Eventually, my brother agreed with her too, and the whole family drove back and returned the cat. Then we spent a while metal detecting around the area and went home.