Last night, while walking home with my family (my husband and daughter), a kitten appeared out of nowhere—it looked to be about a month and a half old, small, white with a little gray tail. It walked between our feet, making sounds and looking up at us as it followed; it was surely hungry. It broke my heart not to be able to take it home to give it food and shelter. The only solution I could think of was to go look for it today and take it to the cat shelter; at least I know there are makeshift little houses there where it can take cover from the rain, and I can bring it food regularly. If it stays here, it runs the risk of being eaten by a larger animal or getting run over. I don't know why, but I was left with a sense of responsibility toward that cat; I felt bad about leaving it behind.