My mother and I live in an apartment complex. One summer a few years ago, our obnoxious, noisy neighbors suddenly moved out. A few days after they left, we were enjoying the blessed silence, but kept hearing a strange noise. We couldn't pinpoint what it was, so we went looking. Around the back of the building, my mother saw a small grey kitty sitting in the window. She was the noise - meowing her tiny heart out. They had abandoned her to die.
We started trying to break into the apartment, trying to remove the screen from the window so we could get in and get the cat. We attracted a small group of people who tried to help. After an hour or so, we called the maintenance manager, who informed us there was no law to rescue cats in our state, only dogs. We pleaded with him, and eventually he let us into the apartment after calling the police to inform them of the situation.
I went in to get the kitty. Their apartment was dank and dirty, and there were empty yogurt cups and trash on the floor without a food or water dish in sight. I grabbed the kitty and took her to my apartment. I named her Elsa. She immediately hid and was generally quite mean for the next few days. Already having two cats, my mother insisted we find her a home. Then, Elsa chose my mom as her person (wise move!). Elsa is now a very sweet, spoiled princess, and is just as mouthy and talkative as she was the day we saved her life.