So you ended up with a surprise litter of kittens and you didn't know what to do. You didn't expect your cat to get pregnant but it all happened so fast and placing the kittens in good homes wasn't as easy as you thought. You didn't like the idea of taking them to the shelter, because this isn't the first time this has happened or you're afraid of having all those sweet little kittens euthanized. They've been with you a couple of months now but are really starting to stretch the family budget. You can't afford the vet bill to have all of them fixed and have their shots, much less the food and other care. Finding them homes seems like a lost cause at this point. 

 Late in the night, you load the kittens into the family car and you drive out into the darkness, past the sidewalks and streetlights. You hear their soft mewing from the backseat but you pay no mind as neat developments give way to expanses of soybean and corn fields. Modest homes dot the landscape. The streetlights disappear and you are engulfed in shadows as the warm spring air whooshes in the crack in your driver side window. Taking a right off of the main road, you find a small neighborhood. Most of the homes are older, ramshackle and in need of repair. You cut the lights on the car and pull up beside a weather-beaten green shed. 

 Quickly, you exit and open the back door. The kittens stare up at you, trusting yet frightened. Scooping each one up, you walk them around the car, depositing them in an unfamiliar yard with tall grass. They cry. You scurry back to your seat and speed away, all your troubles forgotten as you crank the stereo to drown out the sound of their cries echoing in your mind. Arriving home, you feel relieved that you no longer have to care for this sudden burden. You tell yourself it will be better for them, they'll find homes there, they'll live naturally and it will all be okay.

Let me tell you that you are wrong. You come here to dump your cats, but they are not living happy lives. Disease and malnutrition are no way for a domesticated animal to spend its days. 

 Last Saturday was a bit warm for most of us without air conditioning, so I had the front door open. About 10 p.m., I hear a cat crying at my door. When I opened the door, a kitten strolls in. She appears to be about 4 months old. Her breathing is labored and she is frightened. There are some neighbors here who feed feral cats. I don't. I'm not sure why she picked my house out of all the others, but she was obviously sick. We didn't have cat food on hand, but tried to give her lunch meat and water. She didn't eat.

 Since my husband was laid off, we don't have a ton of money, but I scraped together enough to take the cat to the vet. She seemed friendly and used to being around people. But when the vet attempted to examine her, she ripped the tar out of him, hissing and baring claws and fangs. Clutching his wounded finger, he admonished me to never bring in another animal like her again. Diagnosing her with pneumonia, he gave me pills for her. I can't keep her in my house, so she is relegated to the mud room. I have birds and can't have her around the birds. I'm trying to find a home for her but I can't really afford to keep her, either. 

My neighbors have similar stories of mysterious cats showing up and hanging around, belonging to no one. Apparently our neighborhood is an attractive dumping ground for unwanted cats. I can't understand what goes through an owner's mind as he or she unloads live animals in a rural area.