So I found this cat...

More like my car found this cat, and I only found it just in time to swerve and save its life.
But if that wasn't enough, I had to pull over and get out of the car because it was bitterly cold, and it was 11 pm. No one was yelling this cat's name, and, as far as I could tell, the poor thing was lost.
Now, I'm not really a cat person. Every third cat I meet makes me sneeze, my throat itch, and my eyes water. ...But only every third. If you own one, you rarely see it or, as with this one, you see it too much. They climb all over everything, claw at things, chew on furniture, etc. Not really my idea of a good time.
But I am still a humanitarian, oh yes. Even to a cat.
I get this cat to follow me home, and my dad helps me put it in the garage. We get a blanket and water and milk and week-old chicken salad (which the cat seemed to realize was a week old). But no, the thing meowed endlessly. Plus, it was still really cold in the garage. I felt bad. I cleaned my room the best i could, hid all the Christmas candy, brought the blanket upstairs, put a heating pad under it, filled a container we had with cat litter we have just in case a car gets stuck in the snow, and brought up a mat for the water and milk.
I posted on Craig's list just knowing, deep in my heart, that some little five year old girl must be having terrible nightmares (it's now 1 am) because her precious cat went missing earlier in the day. The fact that this cat would NOT leave me alone all night, slept in my bed, and purred the loudest purr I have ever heard, and just generally drove me insane by playing with my cellphone and charger, rubber bands, and bobby pins, didn't really bother me, because after all, this little girl in my mind would be so happy to have her cat return.
But my humanitarian instincts proved to be the downfall of my belief in humanity. This morning my sister tells me her friend, who lives near where I found this cat, has a neighbor who always let their cats out. This morning I walk with the cat, and it still seems lost and confused, casually strolling up random driveways, but never really making a full commitment. Then I continue to my sister's friend's house. Immediately, the cat darts for her neighbor's house. Just as my sister thought. And now I see, their garage door is open just a crack at the bottom. Just enough room for a cat to get in and out.
So here I am, thinking I'll be some little girl's hero, giving her cat a warm place to stay over night, but really it's not the case. The creepy people down the street who, on their basketball hoop, put out a six-feet-tall, illuminated cucifix every year for the holidays just can't seem to give their very own cat a warm place in freezing temperatures.
Jerks.