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Scarlett

An alleged crack house in an abandoned garage is up in flames. Possibly arson, probably a careless crackhead with a light. These details are moot points; what matters to the stray cat that lives there is getting her five kittens out alive. She makes five trips, each time returning to a structure that is further engulfed by flames and smoke. Every hair singed off her body, ears radically burned, eyes melting shut, she will not stop until she has rescued all five.

Firefighter David Giannelli finds the unconscious cat lying near her kittens. He carefully gathers the feline family and goes directly to North Shore Animal League. Word goes around the world about this heroic cat. The masses pray for her, send cards with best wishes, and 7,000 offers to adopt her pour in. After a month, the white kitten succumbs to smoke inhalation. After three months, Scarlett is healed enough to go to a new home. Out of thousands of potential adoptees, Karen Wellen is selected -- herself the survivor of a terrible accident. Two pairs of kittens go to the homes of two other finalists.

Five years later, and I am visiting with the famous cat in her Brooklyn home. Scarlett is now a solid 16 pounds, with a full, shiny calico coat. The deep scars on her legs and feet, near hairless face, oddly upturned eyes, and nubbed ears bear witness to her ordeal. She needs no bribing to pose for me; she enjoys being around people. Scarlett is a symbol of loyalty, heroism, and the best stuff life is made of.

// posted by Alice @ Saturday, September 16, 2006