Animal Precinct

Every Tuesday I exercise with my friend Lucia, a fellow teacher, and then we go to a little local joint for ceviche. For those of you who don't know--never fear, I didn't before I arrived--ceviche is "a citrus marinated seafood salad" that is absolutely delicious and originally came from Peru (Thanks, Wikipedia!). This is one of those rituals I look forward to: a chance to get off campus, a chance to dine out (and cheaply too), and best of all, a chance to catch up with one of my favorite people.

Usually Lucia and I drive to our gym, exercise, and then drive to the restaurant, but yesterday we were feeling adventurous and decided to walk instead (thus killing two birds with one stone--transportation and exercise, all in one go!). The weather was sunny and clear, which is becoming increasingly unusual as rainy season nears its peak in November, so we wanted to profit from it. As we meandered down the road, Lucia gasped upon seeing a teeny, tiny KITTEN on the other side, about to plod right into oncoming traffic. Being the animal lovers we both are, we dashed across, and she picked up the little furball, a beautiful deep black kitten with piercing blue eyes. In Kitten #1's wake was a smaller, quieter kitten with dappled cream and brown fur. While Kitten #2 sat on the side, mewing fearfully, Kitten #1 (black) kept trying to evade me and saunter back into the road. This, Lucia and I decided, simply would not do. We looked around but saw no sign of a mother, a nest, other kittens, or anything to suggest that the kittens were on the side of the road for a reason. Unfortunately, it appeared as though they had most likely been dumped off by a local who didn't want two more feline mouths to feed. Although I love Costa Rica, there are a fair amount of people who do not treat their animals well... but that is a different story entirely.

Deciding that Kittens 1 and 2 will surely be hit by a car if we leave them alone, Lucia and I decide to transport them. I take the calmer, quieter cream-colored one, and Lucia takes the wildly-mewing and wiggling black one. I'm sure we were quite a sight: two young women, walking on the side of the road in exercise clothes, each cupping a tiny kitten (each one was probably ~8-10 in long at most) and talking to it softly in an attempt to calm them. Creamy settled down in my arms almost at once and even purred a little bit. We continued walking and stopped at a security guard stand to ask for a box. Once supplied with this little box of cardboard, we put both kittens inside and continued on our way to ceviche heaven.

Now, here you might ask-- animals? In a restaurant? Surely that is unsanitary! Well, probably. In the USA. However, you forget that I live in a developing country (I find the word "third-world" a bit too pejorative for a country with as much modernity and foreign wealth as CR has). Even in our school cafeteria, which is also open-air, there are a few cats and dogs that meander through that belong to faculty members or administrators. Just about any open-air restaurant plays hosts to dogs during your meal, be they strays or pets of guests and employees. Roy's, our ceviche place of choice, is no different. Although we picked Tuesdays arbitrarily, it just so happens that Tuesday is when Roy's receives its bountiful fresh shipment of fish for the week--caught, literally, just off the coast. In addition, the waiter every Tuesday is a sweet, friendly, and all-around adorable Tico boy named Carlos who recognizes Lucia and me by now. When we arrive, Carlos is surprised at our little kittens, but upon hearing our story, immediately offers to take one for his new house. He tells us that he has just moved in, and he cleans obsessively, but he still has mice. This is a problem, and he has been looking for a cat. He likes the creamy-tan one (the black one "is a symbol of bad luck, bad for a house") and brings us a saucer of water to give to the kittens.

In the meantime, there is a small, smiley black dog who resembles a longer, squatter Labrador observing the kittens with some trepidation. Carlos tells us that this is his dog, who accompanys him to work every day and waits for him in the back. He even demonstrates how, if he walks with a purpose (e.g. out the front of the restaurant), she trots after him almost immediately. Being avid dog-lovers ourselves (see post below re: Goldie; Lucia is Reina's owner), this endears Carlos to us even more. Also, we discover that Carlos's little dog is a little frightened of the kittens, which results in a hilarious scene of two tiny kittens chasing a full-grown medium-size dog. Blogging simply does not do it justice. The kittens are antsy in their box, so Lucia and I end up keeping one each on our laps as we eat. Yes, this is a ridiculous idea; however, before you start lecturing me on germs, I encourage you to pick up a tiny kitten sleeping on your lap (less than one month old), wake it from its slumber and endure its plaintive mews of supplication, and deposit it in a cold, hard cardboard box.

In addition to the kittens, we met a new two-year-old friend, Annika, who toddled back and forth saying "That's a nice little cat!" about each kitten. All in all, it was actually a pretty delightful scene: two kittens, a dog, and a toddler. While we sat with the felines, we befriended Annika's father, a Canadian businessman who lives here in Costa Rica, and his friend, a saucy 71 year old British expatriate with whom I spoke French. The Englishmen drove Lucia and me back to campus (cats and all), and we spent about another 30-45 minutes bringing the tiny kittens inside and trying to introduce them to Reina. Reina, for all her sweet demeanor, seemed utterly alarmed at these tiny intruders in her apartment. She seemed distinctly bothered-- had her human owner gone mad? These were invaders, unidentifiable tiny creatures, "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" style--and she sat whimpering and wagging our tail as not one, but both kittens fell asleep in my lap. When I finally woke them about an hour later (heartbreaking mews and plaintive looks included), we gently placed them in their cardboard box, now lined, and closed them in the bathroom to make them both off-limits to Reina and easier to find in the morning.

All in all, an adventure of over five hours to save two little animals' lives. And yet, isn't that what life is about? Every day is not only an adventure, but an opportunity to put a little more good in this world. One tiny positive contribution-- giving another person a compliment, picking up some trash that isn't yours, letting someone out of a parking space, nursing a wounded baby bird back to health-- it might make a world of difference. Not just for someone else, but for me as well. And I feel better for it.

P.S. Lucia and I (temporarily) named the cats "Noche" (night) for the black one and "Luna" (moon) for the cream-colored one. Noche has a home with two of our high school teachers who are married, just built a house, and want something around to catch mice, roaches, etc. That, and they want a cat to grow up with their two new (ADORABLE) puppies. Perfect.

P.P.S. My left leg is oddly, unexplainedly blue. How did this happen?