It all started with our two akitas. They were outside going absolutely nuts. I blamed it on the snow (those dogs are part penguin). Turns out, it was something else completely.
A tiny kitten. The size of a chipmunk.
I didn’t think (of course). I ran outside in my slippers and crouching down called softly to him. I thought he would take off but he practically ran to me.
He was tiny. And he was very, very thin. I could feel all his ribs and the ridges of his spine through his fur. He was dirty and smelled funny and there was a secretion coming from his nose.
I tried to feed him but he wouldn’t eat and I knew he needed a vet and a home, so twenty minutes later, we were at the local animal shelter.
They explained that they are going to have to force feed him until he starts eating again. They’ll have to put him on antibiotics to clear his nose infection. They’ll get their vet to check him over and give him his shots so he’s up to date on vaccines. They will spay/neuter him (or her, we never did check) so he’ll be a better, healthier pet and they will find a home for him.
They do it all from donations.
As we left, my hubby turned to me and said, “Taylor, you saved that kitten’s life.” I have to disagree.