A couple of years ago our cat had kittens (a whopping 8.) They were the cutest little things. One evening, the missionaries stopped in for a visit and we entertained them with kitten watching. About an hour after they left to go knock on all of our neighbor's doors, they came back with a little black kitten that looked to be the same age as ours. As they handed it to us saying, "We found this escapee down the block" we were pretty confused since it looked like it could be ours but none of our kittens were missing (or able to get that far yet) and the mama cat hadn't even gone outside since she'd had them.
We joined the Elders in walking around the neighborhood (their second time- if you think people are unhappy to have missionaries knocking on their door the first time you should really see the replay...) and asked all of our neighbors if they knew this kitten. Of course, no one did. So, we took the poor baby who couldn't be more than a week old and wouldn't be able to survive for long back to our mama cat hoping that she would accept it (although the missionaries were all excited about the prospect of her freaking out on it- 19 year old boys, you know.) Thankfully, as she lay there on her side with 8 kittens already fighting over a spot to nurse, she seemed to understand and made room for this little guy.
Tonight I was making breakfast for dinner & enlisted the kids to help out. I usually don't love making breakfast for dinner since the multi-tasking of stirring scrambled eggs, and flipping pancakes, and turning sausage, etc. isn't really my thing. I'm more the throw everything in the crock-pot or in a 13x9 baking dish so that I can do other things while it cooks & only have one pan to wash when it's over sort of girl. The kids are all getting old enough to hold their own in the kitchen though, so we threw caution to the wind and scrambled some eggs. As we cooked, someone said, "Remember that little kitten named Elder that Alley Cat adopted?" and the memory came back to me. It made me feel so sentimental thinking of how we named it Elder after the two guys in white shirts & ties that found it.
Then, I started thinking... why can't we humans be so ready & willing to take in kids that are lost / abandoned / orphaned? I've been trying to talk my hubby into foster care for the last few years. I suddenly felt inspired to go guilt trip him with a reminder of the willingness of our cat to serve the less fortunate. If she could love that kitten as her own just because we handed it to her, why couldn't we do the same? Sure, she only had to nurse it for 6 weeks and then we found all the kittens new homes and the mama cat got her freedom back, but...