A tiny little hole in our hearts

I woke Sunday morning to find my early-rising wife at the table catching up on her March Madness standings.
I noticed in the garden next to the patio there were two squirrels busily eating up seeds and nuts and such. The FREE dog had not seen them yet – so I let them go about their business for awhile.
When I finally let her out she had her fun chasing them up a tree.
So the next time she whimpered to go out I assumed they had returned for more tasty nuts.
I watched as she darted out the door and then was horrified to see she was after a cat.
I ran out after her to call her off the poor thing. She rolled the cat once but the cat was able to get away and up a tree. Once I was finally able to get the FREE dog back into the house the cat jumped out of the tree and ran away.

Whew.

Not to long after that my worried wife called me out to the back yard. She told me she had just seen the FREE dog out in the yard and watched her ever so gently place something on the ground and then walk very slowly away.

We ran out to find a very tiny kitten.
Eyes still closed, but not freshly born – maybe a week or so old.
The kitten was breathing, tho labored.

We wrapped the little fluffy fellow in a towel and brought him in.
My now very worried wife went out to look for more. I consulted the Great And Powerful Internet for advice, the little orange kitten laying next to the laptop on the table snuggled in a hand towel.

We got some warm water to clean him up a bit. He had a wound – tho it didn’t look deep. The FREE dog must have been very gentle. I stroked his little head and he responded well to the attention.
I called a local emergency vet and got further advice on how to care for this very new very tiny little life.

As we coddled over him, my allergic-to-cats wife and I discussed how we would care for him over the coming weeks. I planned to bring him to the office so I could feed him several times during the day. We planned to get up every couple of hours for night feedings.
I whispered in his little furry ears that he was safe now and that he was home.

Despite our best efforts and noblest of intentions our little kitty died. Right there on the dining room table. We were comforted by the fact that he died with us, warm and loved – rather than out in the backyard in a pile of leaves.
My saddened wife named him Shere Kahn – for he was brave.

He has been laid to rest in our yard, right next to our other warrior.