Fierce Fangs or Fortunate Feline?

A hell-bent kitty goes to town

H-1 in the rain.

I arrived home just at sunset, with a soft drizzle frustrating my squeaky windshield wipers. Whenever it rains on the island, traffic slows to a crawl, so I was happy to be home and free from the gleam of brake lights. As I crossed the street, I heard a soft “mew” I nearly ignored.

As I reached the porch, he called to me again — a little louder.

I set down my bag and walked back to the street. I decided there was a kitten somewhere near the car parked in front of mine.

Peering up under the SUV, I made that silly kissing sound that animals are supposed to understand. Not getting a response, I started back to the house and reached for the door.

From the street behind me, muffled, but clear “Mew…meeeeew!”

On my hands and knees this time, and with my phone’s flashlight, I checked around the tires, in the wheel wells, and on the drive shaft without luck. When I stood beside the car, the kitten would remain quiet. Whenever I stepped away it would mew again.

Now I was convinced that the kitten was inside this car. My neighbor’s car.

I knocked on the door lightly without raising anyone. The ding-dong of the doorbell received no response.