Ran into this little fellow while I was whizzing along a somewhat busy six-lane street near my home on March 30th. I heard one, single meow that came from around my bottom bracket. I jammed on the brakes so hard and so suddenly that I almost flew over handlebars, not even taking a moment to slide my arsch off the back of the saddle.

I ran back to pick him up, but as soon as he saw me coming he fled across three lanes to the median. I ran after him, but he ran back to around where he was, where there's nothing but dirt and debris. After a few times of him traversing the three lanes - with me in pursuit - and with vehicles speeding right over him, I finally sneaked up on him from the median and jumped onto him face down on the chipseal. His mother or siblings - if he had any - where nowhere in sight.

He was barely the size of my palm - and I have really small hands. He scratched and gnawed like crazy trying to get away, but I stuffed him into my fanny pack and closed the zipper, leaving a small opening for air (which he tried to force his way through.) I pedaled the mile-or-so home, my wife and I gave him a bath with anti-fungus cat shampoo and rushed him to the vet, who gave him a clean bill of health. He said he probably wasn't even four weeks old.

We named him Terry.