Artemis and Aleister

Finding 3-week old kittens left in a bag is not what an animal lover ever wants to stumble upon.  All the tragedies of life run through your head like a horror film and your faith in humanity is temporarily revoked.  It is the peak of "kitten season" and most shelters are flooded with the unwanted and discarded babies born to unaltered cats and dogs.  Three week old kittens rarely stand a chance at finding a foster home via a shelter because of the complexities of properly caring for them.  Naturally, I grabbed the bag of kittens and made the decision to find someone to care for them until they are old enough to be altered and adopted.  Like I said, it is very difficult to find foster care for underage kittens and so my bathroom has been transformed into a kitten nursery of sorts.  I sure am loving it for someone who never wanted to be a mom!  I feel so deeply gratified when Aleister latches on to the bottle like an Olympiad - his little ears wiggling and eyes rolling back with the deep satisfaction of warm milk filling his hungry belly.  Artemis can't be bothered with a bottle.  She's "a big girl" and wants no help eating.  She sops up her kitten gruel and hardly makes a mess, then walks away with a little kick and a smirk as if saying, "I told you I had this down!"

My faith in humanity is restored every time I walk in to work at BEBHS, because I know that every single person I work with would have probably done the same thing.  A few hours of sleep lost for the sake of saving lives is a small sacrifice.