I turn on the T.V. and sink down into the couch.  We got sent home from work today for some event that I paid little attention to, so I figured I should watch the news to find out about it.  Anything beats flipping burgers for eight hours.

47.  CNN.  Tickers zoom across the bottom of the screen at a speed that is too fast for me to read.  A clean cut educated white man is situated behind a desk pretending to speak.

“…  this footage we are about to show you is disturbing.  Please, do not let your children see this.  Please bear in mind that this footage was taken by an amateur.”

His voice is firm, factual.  The screen shifts to a candid shot of the ocean.  The waves appear grainy and are thick with black oil.  Ships fuzzily drift in and out of focus as the video bobs up and down with the current.  In the center of the oil is a speck of something.  The camera shakily zooms in, and the screen freezes on an over-pixilated shot of a kitten floating on a piece of garbage.  The man’s stern voice continues.

“As you can see from this disturbing image, this kitten is stranded in the middle of the oil leak of the gulf.  Completely covered in oil, we can’t tell what the breed of cat, but eyewitnesses have said either Tabby or Siamese.  It’s just too hard to tell with that amount of oil on it.”

I perk up.  That tiny kitty has no chance.  It needs to fight for its life.  I feel its pain as I inch to the edge of my seat.  The telecast absorbs me.

“We have been told that bp is working tirelessly on trying to rescue the cat, and that they have their top men on it.  The question is how long can a cat live drenched in oil out at sea?  Are they really going to be able to get it in time?”

I feel the entire nation sitting with me watching the broadcast.  All eyes and ears are on this journalist whose career will be made by this story.  He makes us feel the pain, the anguish, the sorrow that we humans can only imagine that the kitten is going through.  I feel the urge to pray, but I gave that up too long ago, it would feel too sacrilegious.     

“We will go live to the scene right after these messages.”

Colas, candies and fast food restaurants dance before my eyes looking more delicious than ever before.  I want to feed my new found hunger, but I dare not leave my spot in fear of missing a moment of this enthralling story.  I can’t help it.  I run to the fridge and grab a cool refreshing can of Coke.  Ktshhht!

“It’s a miracle, it truly is!”

My heart beats harder, stronger, as if expecting passion.  My expectations are in the sky.

“The kitten, whose name we found out to be Murray, is safe!  Murray is safe!”

“YES!”  I shout as I leap to my feet. 

“bp has done it.  They came up with an ingenious plan that some thought wouldn’t work, but they have proved themselves to the naysayers.”

The screen cuts to a shot of a computer screen diagram that has been drawn up.

“As you can see from the diagram we have here, what bp has done is used all the animals that are now waste and only polluting the ocean to create a bridge right through the oil spill.  They started with a base layer of whales, orcas I believe, and on top of that they’ve built up stratified layers of other marine life, primarily fish, but it was topped off with a final layer of ducks.”

The scene changes again.  The title reads an unpronounceable name: bp Scientist.

“It was really the layer of ducks that did it.  You see, after a duck dies from exposure and full body coverage of oil they become very buoyant, and stay stable.  Stability was the key thing here.  If you can show a clip, the most difficult thing of this whole ordeal was for the rescuers to walk across the duck bridge and not slip.  It’s quite hard to walk on an oiled duck you know.  We had to run test after test in the lab this morning to figure out if it was even possible.”

The screen shifts again to the field correspondent.

“This footage you are now seeing are the first shots of Murray on land.  Here he is with his family, and you can see that they are just overjoyed.  Back to you John.”

With a cheesy perfect grin and a face of accomplishment the reporter signs off.  In the background an obese family fumbles over their small contaminated kitten. 

Still standing out of sheer amazement of such a miracle I fight back tears.  Just like the rest of the world, I feel the hole in my heart get recharged with fresh hope.