We arrived at Taylor and Art’s incredible barnhouse on late Saturday afternoon. There was more activity than I expected, even though I knew Mule Day took place that day. I thought it would have been wrapped up by the time we arrived, but there were still people lingering, event signs were up, cars were lined up on their way out of the small Georgia town. The event website says that this small town has a population of 200 (!!) but it swells to over 30,000 on the day of the event, which celebrates the mules’ contribution to agriculture with a parade, contests, entertainment, vendors and more, with money going to the Lions Club for charity.

A lot of the event takes place right across the street from Taylor’s home, in a large open field. She said the area is typically quiet, but we arrived on one of the busiest days of the year.

The next morning, after a shower, I left Spence in the guestroom and walked outside to feel the cool air and to take a stroll around the front of the property in day light. Once outdoors, I meandered through the front yard, toward the road where Taylor’s property is fenced. I was trying to see if anything was still happening in the field across the street (I had heard horse/mule neighing that morning and I knew Taylor’s neighbors were going to offer mule rides later that morning).  

As I approached the fence, I heard a MaMaMaMaMaMa—over and over, quick and staccato. I didn’t recognize the sound, and as I approached the spot from where it emanated—at the front of the property, right next to the fence—it stopped. I stood still for a moment and soon the sound started again, but this time a bit more clearly, and I could tell it was a cat.

The property has trees in the front and it was clear the cry was coming from the tree. I looked and looked and didn’t see anything. There appeared to be a hole in the base of the tree and I wondered if a cat was stuck inside. The crying would stop and start and I simply couldn’t locate where it was coming from.

Around this time, Taylor joined me in the yard. “I think I hear a cat,” I told her as she approached. “Oh, no,” she said. She and her husband Art have had to deal with a few stray and/or mistreated animals since they’ve moved to the area. They now have a cat who lives on the property that was found as a stray kitten. As an animal lover, it is hard for her to figure out what to do with stray kittens since Georgia doesn’t have no-kill shelter options. I told Taylor I couldn’t figure out the location of the critter. We stood for a few moments and heard nothing. Just as Taylor suggested we go ahead and start the tour of the property and come back to this spot later, the cry started again.

We both walked around the tree again, searching, and we were joined be Art who was filled in on the situation. Taylor then spotted the culprit—a tiny kitten, snuggled in tight to the base of the tree, not moving. We thought he was stuck between branches. Taylor went inside to get gloves and a towel. When she returned, she climbed over the fence—with help from Art—moved the branches, and picked up the kitten. He wasn’t stuck after all—he just didn’t want to move. It had been quite cold the night before and he was shivering.

She wrapped him in a blanket and handed him to me so she could climb back over the fence and into her yard. And as I held him in the blanket, heart emojis started floating around my head. Spence joined us, just missing all the excitement, but in time to see the heart emojis floating around me and the kitten.  

I carried him around the property as Taylor gave us a tour, and when we returned to the house, Taylor gave him some wet cat food which he devoured. We set up a kennel in the yard with a cat bed that Taylor’s stray cat (Barnabus) had totally ignored, but that George (named after his home state) climbed right into and settled down in.

So George was safer than he had been when we first found him. And he was teeny-tiny. Maybe five- or six-weeks-old, we guessed. Now the question became: what happens to George now?

Coming soon: Part Two—the bargaining, the second thoughts, the traveling, the regret, the fuzziness, the happiness.