Three

Figures that I'd pick up a kitten with a hellish case of the fungus. 

In an act of randomness I decided to get my car washed today. As I was preparing to drive out of the gas station I saw a black/grey/who-knows kitten walking unsteadily along the sidewalk next to my parked car. Two station workers tried to shoo it away and failed. So I got out. It really was a disgusting, sad little creature.

I asked the workers if the cat belonged to anyone. Unsurprisingly, it didn't. They told me to take it with me lest it get run over since the gas station stood on a busy road in the middle of a commercial district with heavy traffic.

So I did, and as I was driving to the vet clinic it made sure to direct several snot-heavy sneezes at my exposed skin, then rubbed itself very thoroughly against my arms as I tried to stay focused on the 6pm traffic. By the time I'd reached the vet's I was marinated in whatever germs the cat had.

"A bath and check-up, please."

If only it were that simple. Turns out the thing is riddled with skin fungus along the ears and at its feet. "How long would it take to clear up?" A week or two. "Is it infectious?" Very.

I'm leaving it at the vet's until it's properly cured. And then? Who knows, I might have found myself a new pet. One that mom would kill me over if she finds out. She's still trying to get me to take in my old cat, but moving my baby in with me at my new flat would end in disaster – apparently cats (especially indoor-outdoor ones like mine) get attached to places, not people, and after seven years of living in the same neighborhood she'd just run away and try to go back if I take her away. I don't want a dead cat on my hands, so she's staying at mom's, much to her chagrin. 

40 euros poorer and a possible fungus infection later, I now wait for my new flat mate (maybe).