Almost four years ago, something horrible happened.

Today, I had the chance to redeem myself. A little. In a nutshell, I helped rescue a kitty from a semi-busy street. The kitty was probably no more than 3 months old, and starving. The poor thing was so scared and so thin. I held it and I could feel the little bones. My heart just broke. Fortunately, a car stopped and a woman with two kids got out and asked what was going on and when she saw the baby kitty, one of the first things she said was (paraphrasing): “we’ll take it home. I’ve got some cat food at the house.” I sure hope that cute little bag of bones was well fed today and is sleeping comfortably tonight and gets the care it needs. Poor thing had a little scratch on its mouth – a woman who lives across the street from the building I found the cat at (the cat was in front of the building on the edge of the street, then briefly IN the street … at one point under my car when my coaxing didn’t work as planned!) says she thinks it was the kitty’s momma who popped it in the mouth.

All I can picture in my mind right now is a tiny little “meow” coming from its itty bitty mouth and how the lil thing shrinked back from me when it thought I was getting too close/loud (I was clapping my hands and talking excitedly to try and get it to get back from the street). My cat was a frightened stray, too, when she came to me and my family but we took care of her, and still do to this day – 10 years later. And she takes care of us, too.

Stay warm, dry, and safe, little kitty. And God bless ya.

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