Don’t believe those cynics who say that you’ve gotta look out for #1, or that “no good deed goes unpunished.” They just haven’t kept their hearts open long enough to see what we got to see this past weekend.
Nice Guy Exhibit A: Surprise/Sir Prize (depending on which human bean you ask - kittens don’t stumble over spelling). Now, tell me true - if you were so anemic you were somewhere between corpse-grey and Smurf-blue; if you were covered in fleas and ticks and mean little biting things of all varieties; if you were so weak you couldn’t stand and so hungry you’d willingly eat potted meat product or vegan cheese…would you be in the mood to give love to other creatures? He may have barely had the strength to lift his head, but our little tabby Sir proved himself a true knight by purring up a storm and doing his best to love up everyone in sight, even as he lingered near death’s door.
Nice Guy Exhibit B: Barry “Where’d Everybody Go?” Grey. (Yes, Barry is one of the few cats for whom we can confidently know his last name. Clearly it’s Grey, because clearly he’s kin to the original cool dude.) The last of the Jersey Guys became a first officer in the Legion of Nice Guys on Friday, when he opened a vein for Sir Prize. For once, I’m not being melodramatic; Barry literally opened a vein for the kitten. Well, okay, if you want to get technical, we opened it for him, but the end result is the same. When Sir Prize was desperately in need of blood, Barry rose to the occasion and gave him a transfusion. (If you’re wondering if Barry personally volunteered for this valiant feat…um, my lips are sealed. And if you’d like to know how graciously Barry handled the whole thing, you’ll have to wait 50 years until his files are unclassified. After all, we do want to focus on how nice Barry is today.)
With healthy Barry-blood coursing through his weak little system, Sir Prize slooooowly began perking up. First he lifted his head, then tried to rise to those stubby little striped legs. There would be no walking around, and certainly no standard-issue kitten crazies, just yet…but it looked like the little guy was actually going to make it.
All thanks to Barry.
Chalk up a victory for the nice guys. But this Carnival of Nice wasn’t over yet.
After all this time, we Tabby’s Place human beans were starting to wonder why no adopters had eyes for Barry. Wasn’t he the handsomest thing ever to come from the Jersey shore (with all apologies to all Situations)? Wasn’t he sweeter than a fudgesicle? Wasn’t he so all-around full of win that no mere mortal could or should resist him? Wasn’t he??!
We got our answers very quickly this weekend, right on the heels of Barry’s good deed. The kitty vein that had given life to Sir Prize just hours earlier had barely healed over when Barry met a special family we’ll just call the Manilows. Here were the ones with the wise eyes to see. Here was the family with a nice-guy-shaped hole in their home.
Here were Barry’s people. Ladies and gentlemen, Barry has left the building.
And what of our littlest nice guy, Sir Prize himself? The mighty mite is positively flourishing, thanks in no small part to foster mama Denise, the dream team at the emergency vet…and Barry himself. As I type this e-mail, Sir Prize is getting stronger every day, walking and cuddling and learning to be a real live kitten. I feel the need to warn you, if you should visit and not be planning to add a 3-pound ball of stripe to your family: Sir Prize’s perfectly-round eyes will wreck you. But in a really nice, wouldn’t-wanna-miss-it kinda way. So you’d better hurry in, because this little Sir won’t be here long.
Nice guys. Gotta love ‘em. Gotta smoosh ‘em. Gonna miss ‘em when they get adopted…while happy-dancing all the way.