Traveling can be an awe-inspiring experience, filled with unexpected encounters and heartwarming stories that stay with you long after your journey ends. For writer Erin Johnson, her adventure through Romania took an unforeseen turn when she stumbled upon a tiny, starving kitten in desperate need of help. But what do you do if you find a starving kitten? How do you save it? Little did she know that this encounter would become a life-changing moment for both her and the helpless feline.

So, grab a cup of coffee, and get ready to be inspired by Erin’s story.

This is a guest post by Erin Johnson.

Those who dream of travel often have a plan – days dedicated to ticking things off lists, setting aside travel days, checking weather to make sure the travel falls on those rainy days that are tossed aside as undesirable albeit necessary to get to the main event.

As someone who maintains travel as a lifestyle, I have fallen down a crack in time where one plan a week is all I wish to make. For I dream of the in-between. The things you never plan for, that make you feel more alive than any adrenaline fuelled booking ever could.

Let me share with you a tale of one of my most recent in-between weekends. It began, ironically, with a carefully laid out plan – a busy few days of driving and hiking in Romania.

Not long after the drive began, the overheating light flashed on the dashboard. There is nothing more scary than a potential break down while abroad. Thoughts flash through your mind roaming from bad to worse. From the instantaneous “Will I find a safe place to pull over,” to the extreme “What if it’s a serious problem that will cost thousands.”

Luckily enough, the light dimmed just as suddenly as it came on. There was a rest stop not long after that, and my travel companion and I pulled in to take a look at the engine. Things seemed fine. Although a trip into the mountains and away from the safety of a mechanic would not be wise, we decided. Unfortunately, the timing was not ideal, it was  07:00 pm on a Friday evening. All the mechanics had shut for the day. On closer inspection, we found that there were several open on Saturdays.

The next morning, we were up early and eager to get to a mechanic in Petroșani we had spent the evening reading reviews about. The man working there kindly told us that the mechanics do not work on Saturdays.

We then decided to drive to a garage on the other side of town. When the time came for the mechanic to open, no movement. Another 5, 10, 15 minutes passed, and nothing. I tried to call the number, and there was no answer.

In the meantime, I had also begun calling every mechanic that was open on Saturday. I had reached one a 45 minutes’ drive away; they had mechanics working and invited us to drive over. They had no reviews, but what other choice was there? This mechanic  left us with the news that the car needed a part that he could not get until Monday morning and advised us to avoid driving as much as possible.

Our map showed a national park not far from the city of Petroșani. It wasn’t the original plan, but it was good enough while we waited for the appointment with the mechanic. It was breathtakingly beautiful and understated. Very few tourists, with a creek separating the small wild campsite from a monastery. Bathing in the creek, grilling in a designated bbq and enjoying the cool mountain air, I began to relax and enjoy this unravelling turn of events.

Suddenly, I heard what I thought was a bird, a squeak or squawk of sorts. I heard it again a little louder. It was a mew. A desperate mew of a small creature who was hungry and alone.

After a little scout of the area, we discovered a little kitten. It was living behind a fence underneath an electric box. The little creature continued to mew, but it was clear it was afraid of our very presence. There didn’t seem to be any sign of its mother or any siblings. There was, however, a pile of bread scraps, a paper plate, and a water bottle cut open with water for it to drink. Perhaps some scraps and water from a previous bbq?

As I travel with snacks for animals, I had some cat food in the van. I put some on the plate and backed away. The cat ate with obvious hunger and caution. Constantly looking up and jumping with any sound, sometimes quickly jumping back behind the fence for safety.

We decided to take a walk ourselves and leave it be, hoping its mother would return a little later. We found some appropriate length sticks and crossed the river to the monastery. An exciting feat, in itself and curiously discovered wild tomatoes growing along the river bank. I picked a few to be enjoyed in a meal later.

Making our way back across the river and to the campsite, we once again heard the little mews. It had been several hours and the mother was still not in sight. The cat looked to be about six to eight weeks old, not old enough to fend for itself. I left it another small portion of food and started the fire.

As the night wore on, it seemed the cat was torn between its fear of us humans, who it had been taught to fear its whole existence, and the cold, dark night. Lured by the warm light from the fire, it inched closer and closer. Any sudden movement or sound would send it leaping back behind the fence of the electrical box and the only safe space it had ever known.

I brought out my guitar and began to play. Now we know that music has a particular effect on humans. Ancient tribes from all over the world have always had the similarity that every last one of them had produced music. And after all, aren’t humans animals? The cat was transfixed by the sound. It climbed into my guitar case and spent the rest of the evening playing, sleeping, and even having a few curious climbs over me. A few cat treats later, I managed to get it into the campervan. A few cautionary steps led to a very excited roll around on what was probably his ( yes, at this point I was able to see he was a boy) first ever carpet. The evening ended with him exploring every corner of the van, practising his jumping and climbing in his new cat paradise.

The following afternoon, we decided to go back into the city to spend the night. The mechanic had asked us to bring the car in early on Monday morning. The little cat, who had spent the day jumping in and out of the van at his leisure posed a slight problem. We had yet to have any physical contact with him. He was still very resistant to touch. He was always curious and chose to be near us as much as possible, but any attempts to touch him would make him jump to the nearest safe space (currently under the sink, or less than ideal, in the electrical cables no matter how we tried to cover that space, a tiny kitten sized hole would always remain).

We managed to call a vet, hoping they could take him for a day while we were without the car. They advised us to contact an animal shelter. They were quick to respond and after several back and forth messages, including photos to confirm that he was not a wild cat, they agreed to take him in. The only trouble was the shelter was 60 kms away. It became clear that the only option was to leave him in his current home for one more night. Then, after the mechanic, we would come and collect him and drive him to the shelter.

The time came to leave him, and we realized we had not seen him for several hours. We searched all of his favourite spots in the van, to no avail. We looked outside and meowed (usually he would reply), but nothing. We thought he must be sleeping under the electrical box again. So we left him some food and water, and after carefully checking under the car, we left.

Arriving at one of the less glamorous places to park in a campervan, a local supermarket, we recognized the convenience and went to top up our supplies. Traveling in more remote places always leaves the weary traveller with errands to run once back in a city.

Several hours had passed and night had come. Upon returning to the van, I spotted a silhouette of a cat sitting on the dashboard. “It’s the little cat!” I exclaimed. As soon as I said it, he looked in my direction and disappeared, causing me to doubt whether I had seen him at all. Of course I had, and now we had a problem. A scared cat who thinks the van is his safe space, and said safe space was soon to be moved into a garage with all kinds of dangerous machinery. There was nothing left to do but force contact.

I caught him (once again in the electric cable box) and picked him up for the first time. He meowed in defense. However, I had researched a little the day before and found that kittens like to be rocked, just like human babies. Soon enough, he was purring. Several pick up and put downs later, and a makeshift carrier made from a cane basket with a dish rack on top, left us feeling confident enough that we could take him with us.

The following morning went fairly easily, the cat started to enjoy the safety of his basket; and after an hour, we didn’t need to put the dish rack over the top. He did not like the busy traffic of the city and was very excited to get back to his new home. The mechanic was back to business as usual and did a great job, albeit no more funny stories, it was Monday after all.

The drive to the shelter went without a hitch. We decided the cat should ride up front in his basket, just in case anything should fall in the back. As I sat next to him, he stared up at me. Every time I glanced over, the same look was on his face. “What?” I asked him. At this question, he slowly crawled out of his basket and into my arms where he fell asleep. I had earned his trust.

The woman at the shelter was happy to receive him, and she told us she had some kittens very similar. We left hoping that he would feel a sense of family with them and learn all the things that a cat needed to learn.

And with that, the weekend was complete. Nothing had gone to plan, and although I spent another month traveling Romania, I cannot say I had a more authentic experience than those few days. I will leave you with this final thought.

As a traveller, do you sometimes help or rescue a starving kitten? Tell me about it in the comment section!

About the author

Erin is a German-based content writer, translator and editor. She co-founded and collaborates on a free local zine in her home city of Berlin. She spends her time travelling Europe in her campervan and pet sitting along the way. If you would like to read more of her works, check out the zine online at zineverschenken.de or follow on Instagram @zineverschenken

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