This morning I'm driving to work, carpooling with my friend Tom. It's not 8 am yet and already it's nearly 90 degrees out. Forecast says look for 110 degrees. I work in a factory with no A/C, just lots of fans. It was looking to be another lousy sweaty day.

I'm about to make the final turn onto the road that leads to the plant, check the mirror to make sure no one behind me is going to read end me when I slow down, and see no one coming in the oncoming lane. And off to the side of my vision I notice something that doesn't belong. It's a small tan spot on the asphalt, right next to the white line that defines the lane.

In a fraction of a second I realize it's a kitten, it's eyes are open, it's head is up and it's belly is plastered to the ground while it's front legs are thrown out as though it were terrified of losing it's grip on the road.

No thoughts were thought. No actions were planned. No consequences were weighed. I simply hit the brakes, spun a quick U-turn and stopped as close as I could without endangering it. I remember hearing myself loudly say, "Oh NO!" Not as in, 'How awful' but as in 'I will not allow this.'

Tom's confused, as he didn't see the ginger tom until I bailed out. I'm moving slowly but steadily toward this little creature who's staying perfectly still inches from the traffic lane. I catch sight of a silver minivan coming and hold up my hand to let the driver know I am not moving and that I want room to take care of the situation. She rolls by, not even slowing down.

Now the kitten is moving. Not panicking, not running, but slowly and cautiously turning itself toward me. TOWARD ME. I bless it's good sense and quickly reach for it, knowing it will not bolt. Moments later I'm back in my truck and Tom's saying, "Good job, dude."

The moment the ginger tom and I were safely in the vehicle, he looked at me with an expression I would swear would translate as, "S'okay. I'm good now." No wailing, no clawing, no shaking. Just a calm expression of acceptance. But it took me a good minute to calm myself. I kept thinking of how close it had all been. The silver minivan might have been the end of it's life.

So we get to the plant, clock in, and now I'm wondering what in the world am I going to do with this calm, trusting little animal. It wasn't interested in water but some small bits of lunchmeat from my ham sandwhich were nommed quickly. I figured he was about 6 weeks old, big enough for solids but not much else. Once he'd gotten his fill of ham, he simply went to sleep on the break room table.

I'm sitting there at a loss. I'm in a rental house. Me and my room mate have agreed that having an animal would not be the best idea, much as we both might like to. Everyone who comes into the break room gets asked if they know of anyone who would want it. No takers.

Eventually I decide that I'm going to have to do the right thing and keep it safe until I can get it home, feed it, teach it about litterboxes and try to find it a home.

Then one of the guys in my department starts petting him. He picks him up and holds him while he sleeps and just stares at him. He sits with him long enough that the ginger tom wakes up from his nap and starts getting playful. The guy is sold. He says his wife had recently mentioned getting a playmate for their other cat and he believes this kitten would do perfectly. He takes the little thing directly to the vet, has it checked and takes him home.

The vet reported the kitten had no parasites, no diseases and was in excellent shape, considering where he'd been that morning. The fellow who took him home has named him 'Indy', as in 'Industrial Kitty.' Indy, by the way, is polydactal on his front paws. He has 'thumbs' on both, but the normal 4 toes on his hinds.

Tom gave me kudos several times, jokingly calling me 'Feline Jesus'. Me, I'm feeling better then I have in a while.

The heat might be breaking records and I may be sweating my butt off, but today was a pretty good day.