It was, what we thought at the time, a tiny grey tabby kitten. Tucked under the car, next to the wheel, was a discarded, dirty white jacket, sort of bundled up, and an open can of tuna, and on the car was a note saying "Hey mate, there's a cat under your car, check your engine before you turn it on" in Spanish. So we assumed this poor kitty had been dumped in this jacket with a can of pretty rank tuna, that looked like it had been open for a day or two.
With Carolyn being one very crazy cat lady already and me well on my way we obviously couldn't just leave this kitten here, and so all plans went out the window and we suddenly found ourselves led on the floor, rank tuna in hand trying to entice this beautiful little thing out from under the car. But there was no way in hell he (or she as we thought at the time) was going to budge. So we spent the next half an hour trying to get it to the edge of the car so we could grab it, failing, and then having to run around the other side of the car to stop it running out there. It was absolutely terrified, and so kept disappearing up into the engine of the car, to hide out of reach. We had Carolyn's iPhone torch shining under trying to see exactly where he was, and I was taking photos on my phone with the flash trying to get a better idea. He was meowing constantly and very loudly at this point, but kept making himself completely out of reach, no matter how far we wedged ourselves under that car.
The looks we were getting as people walked past and saw two girls, bums most definitely on show, led on the ground, half their bodies wedged under a car, filthy tuna, leaves and mud in their hair and all over their clothes and faces... there was definite pointing. A few people stopped to ask us what we were doing, before carrying on their way. Two lovely, elderly ladies actually stopped quite near to the end and tried to help by offering us a laser pen to try and see and tempt the cat out, and offering us one of their crutches to try scoop him out with (I'd dug a long, plastic, god knows what out of a nearby skip at this point to try and poke and prod him out of the engine). Finally, he left his hiding place and sat curled up underneath the car, so with Carolyn blocking one side of the car I used the stick to sort of push him towards the pavement, and the one and only time he actually emerged from under the car onto the street we grabbed him, wrapped him in our coats and quickly marched him back to my apartment, but not before thanking those two lovely ladies of course.
"SHTAAAAP CLEANING ME!"
After a towel drying, he had a little explore of my room/tried to get as far away as possible from the flannels and people using them, whilst we facetimed and skyped our parents to tell them of the new addition to the family. Note the slightly grey paws still (and please excuse the state of the floor, it had been a testing week of dropping and breaking a horrifying amount of compact powders.)
A couple of days before, we had visited the Gatateca in Madrid - a cat library where you can go and read, chill and have a drink whilst rescued cats wander about/snooze around you. So our first thought was to contact this place to see if they could take in this kitten and look after him until someone hopefully adopted him, as they take in strays off the street and care for them. I also said I would contact every shelter I could find in Madrid and was pretty hopeful that one of them would take him in for us the next day. Who could say no to this cheeky little face...
We fed him some turkey slices - the only thing the late-night, nearby Chinese bazaar had on offer - and gave him some water, and that night he found his favourite place to sleep was, in fact, on my face, though every so often he would slip off and get lost in my hair.
I also realised on my way to the shop that during all the chaos trying to get him out from under the car, I had lost the big, jewelled decoration off one of my (favourite) shoes... (I was forced to just rip it off the other shoe when getting ready for uni the next day. Definitely worth it.)
The next day Carolyn had to leave early to catch her flight, and I had to go face the exam of doom (which I thought went a lot better than it could have done, but still a little bit horrendously) and on my way back I picked up some essentials like food, and stuff to make a temporary litter tray. When I opened my door to my room I saw Pedro (originally named Lexi after the Spanish lexicon exam I had almost certainly just failed) was snoozing on my bed, but as soon as he saw the door open he jumped up and buried underneath the covers and didn't move until I picked him out. It was one of the cutest but slightly saddest things I've ever seen in my life - a scared kitten hiding under the covers...
I then spent the afternoon and evening having rather amazing cuddles with Pedro and emailing every single shelter I could find in Madrid and the surrounding areas telling them the situation and asking them for any help they could offer in finding Pedro somewhere to stay. I also spent the whole next day doing this. However, many places were coming back to me saying that they were already full and bursting at the seams with unwanted cats, especially at this time of year, and by later that night I was getting rather panicky that this beautiful bundle of fluff had nowhere to go and I was supposed to be on a flight back home in a couple of days, for the best part of a week. It was at this point that I began researching just what it would cost to bring him home to England. Blind panic had taken over by this point, and so I convinced myself that if no shelter in Madrid could have him, then someone in England would surely help me out. As you can see, all logic had gone out of the window, but how could it not when faced with the possibility of this tiny baby ending up back on the streets, where he would absolutely not survive even a couple of days in the Madrid cold (not even sure I can survive the cold right now!)
It turns out the laws concerning animals entering in to the UK changed in January 2012. Before, any animal entering in to the UK had to have a rabies vaccination and then had to be put into quarantine for 6 months. However, since the change, any cat entering in to the UK from an EU country only needs to be micro-chipped, to have had a rabies vaccination and a pet passport filled in and stamped by an officially approved veterinarian. 21 days after their rabies jab they are free to enter the UK through a number of government approved routes. If coming from a non-EU or non-listed country there is a separate blood test that has to be done 30 days after the rabies vaccination and then you must wait for 3 calendar months before you can enter the UK with your pet, but seeing as we are coming from Spain, we are not required to have the blood test.
So armed with this information, I began to bombard my parents with photos like this:
Now I knew I had my mum on board, but it was my dad that needed convincing. Our house has been pet free for nearly 6 years, and although dad likes it that way, me and mum spend hours online looking at kittens and tiny fluffy dogs we wish we had running around whilst dad sighs and rolls his eyes at us. Luckily growing up in a house with 3 other girls, I think my dad has learned that once we all gang up together (sister was well on board at this point) it is going to make life a lot easier to just give in to what we are asking for - sorry Papa D! And so a few glasses of rum later, along with me firing numbers at them with every picture highlighting how it wouldn't cost THAT much to save this little kittys life (playing on the heartstrings as much as possible) Dad caved and Pedro was officially about to become part of the family!
Pedro is EXTREMELY happy about this, and says thanks mum and dad! (He actually says Gracias, because he speaks Spanish. Mum and Dad, you should probably get started on those Spanish lessons...)
.jpg)
