Maybe I blew it, but maybe there's still hope.

Yesterday I walked out my front door onto the stoop, and found a very skinny black cat laying on the ground just off the steps.

I don't own a cat. I had one a couple of years ago, also black, but he died before the trip, and we vowed: "No more cats." DH hates the box; I'm allergic.

I walked to the Jeep before realizing that maybe he was laying there because he was weak. I noticed I could see his hips through his coat, and while his ribs were not showing, I could tell easily where the ribcage ended. I set my things into the Jeep, and walked to him. He let me pet him, and stood to follow me when I went back inside to call DH for help.

I was in a hurry to meet a friend for lunch, but this was a creature in need. I called our cat friends to ask what to do. He answered, and didn't want another cat. He suggested taking it to a no-kill shelter. When DH came out, I asked him to get a box, and he disappeared back inside.

I called our vet, and asked about shelters. They told me to bring it in, they'd check for a microchip, and then if there was none, they would call Animal Control. I asked about their kill policy, but she didn't know.

DH came out with a box, and then went back inside. I'd been petting the cat all the while, and he didn't complain when I picked him up -- until I started toward the box. I set him in, and then tried to hold him with one hand while closing the flaps over the top.

He took a swipe at me with claws that grew out a foot-long in an instant. As I was trying to stop the blood from spurting to my clean clothes, I looked over to see him disappear into a the lower branches of a huge old cedar next to our drive.

Once I cleaned my wounds, I got back into the Jeep and went on, frustrated and upset at my stupidity. My chance to help another in need, botched by my lack of thought. No, I am not experienced at this sort of thing, but I should've known he wouldn't just lay down in the box. I drove to my appointment feeling guilty and sad.

On my way home, I decided that I would at least feed it, if I couldn't rescue it, so I stopped at the local mini-mall to buy some food. On the window of the pet food store was a post: "Lost Black Cat with pink collar" followed by a phone number. I called, though this cat didn't have a collar. Collars get lost.

The woman told me it wasn't her cat, but she knew the cat, and she would come over to get it. I had to tell her how I botched my rescue. She said if it came back to call her.

Please, God, let him come back. Until he does, every time I see a black cat on the street, I am going to wonder.

Why do people let their cats roam?

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The food worked! 8) I put some out last night, and this morning it was gone. No sign of the cat. I hoped I wasn't feeding raccoons. I put more food out this morning.

Tonight, just as I was preparing to settle in for the night, I heard him out back. DH suggested I just go out with the food, but not try to catch him. Ha! The poor thing was so starved for human contact that I couldn't avoid him! He purred and cuddled as soon as I picked him up. (I stayed far away from the box!)

After holding and petting him for a bit, I took a chance and put him down by the food so I could get my phone and call the woman that said she would take him. They were just a couple of blocks away. I sat with him on the front steps and waited for them to arrive.

Now, he's happily settled in with his new adopted family. I can relax knowing that I helped him, instead of driving him further into the wilderness.

All is right with the world, again.