One of the cats out at my parent’s house had kittens.
The other day, my youngest brother ran one over. (Life expectancy out there isn’t very long)
They called me to let me know what had happened, and wanted to know if it’s mother would still take care of it, if it were dying. They were going to leave it in the garage, knowing it was in pain, and let it die.
This is not acceptable to me. I told them to take it to a vet, and have it looked at. (I would pay)
If it was in really bad shape at least they could put it to sleep and it wouldn’t be suffering.
Anyone out there (my mom and dad, brother and sister-in-law, and little brother) could have done this. They could have easily been able to afford a vet visit, but, noooo.
As it turned out, he was mostly bruised and scraped up. No broken bones or serious internal damage.
When it came time to send him home, the vet had pain killers and antibiotics for him to take. No one was willing to dose him, so, I brought him home.
The vet was the one who named him. She said he was one very lucky kitten… so, his name is Lucky!
The next day my youngest daughter and her friend were out selling raffle tickets, and she "found" a kitten. It was at the grocery store, hiding behind some outdoor lawn and garden stuff.
So, she brought him home…
Meet, Lucky(orange tabby) and Charlie(dark tabby), our newest family members.
(shhhhh just don’t tell my husband, he doesn’t know yet) lol
BIG HUGS, Steph