A List of Bizarre Cat-Related Situations I’ve Found Myself In in 2017

- Feeding six feral cats at dusk with a 50-something neighbor who brings me gifts back from his vacation down the shore every summer. (This year: a giant tub of salt water taffy; last year: seashells and a mug with flip flops on it.)

- Watching Telemundo with two elderly neighbors as they try to feed me beef kidneys one cooked, plotting how to help the local cats during commercial break.

- Laying in the empty bathtub with a sleeping feral kitten zipped up inside my hoodie.

- Scaling a wooden fence to get to a sick kitten stuck in an extremely angry man’s yard.

-Scrambling up a fire escape with one hand on the ladder and one hand on a giant carrier containing a kitten I’d just pulled from a cinderblock.

-Being driven in an unmarked van by a trio of Guardian Angels to JFK airport.

My amazing rescue friend Brian feeding Thumbelina.

- Bringing an elderly neighbor’s cat on the B65 bus to the Brooklyn Cat Cafe so she could be spayed for free.

- Riding the A train at rush hour with a dying kitten in a carrier.

- Calling my boyfriend outside a Duane Reade on Flatbush Avenue and hysterically crying when I learned the first kitten I rescued had died.

- Begging the guy who owns the nearby pet store to let me keep a pregnant mom cat there just for two hours, while she recovers from her surgery.

- Cleaning out and bandaging up a tiny bite on my right pointer finger I sustained from an adorably vicious one-pound kitten.

- In the bougie office of One Medical in the Financial District, getting a tetanus shot.

- Trapping cats in an abandoned lot at 6 in the morning, before it is light out, with two neighbors twice my age.

- In a van at 5:30am with a woman I’ve never met and 10 feral cats, riding to central Queens.

- In the parking lot of an ASPCA in Glendale, Queens at dawn with 10 cats in traps, trying to remember which one is Blackie and which one is Boots, as I fill out their paperwork.

Gracie, the first kitten I rescued — and the first kitten I lost.

- Carrying freshly-made cat shelters through a movie set to the grounds of an old Underground Railroad stop near East New York.

- Putting sardines out in a friend’s Fort Greene backyard to try to lure some kittens before gingerly placing a squirrel carcass they’d been playing with into a Febreze-scented garbage bag.

- Rigging a giant cat trap on a rotting picnic table in the yard of an aspiring actress so that my 70-year-old neighbor can set it off by pulling a string threaded up to her third-floor window.

- In the basement of a public housing building administering antibiotics to sick kittens.

- In the basement of a Brooklyn Heights church, scraping the cat shit off my sneakers at a sink made for preschoolers, while a friend administers emergency fluids to a dying kitten.

- Explaining over and over and over again “I swear I’m a normal person with a regular job, I just do this for fun!” to people who definitely do not believe me.

If you want to help Brian Hull, a rescue friend who does so much for cats in Crown Heights, you can donate to his YouCaring page here, or purchase something from his Amazon Wishlist.

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