... and not hate me for my lack of pity.
Yesterday when I went to pick up the mail, Animal Lover Rita stopped me on the street and asked if I wanted a kitten. I steeled myself instantly. Sure enough, it was a very, very sad tale: While out on one of her power walks, Animal Lover Rita had heard pitiful meowing coming from a wood pile. She called and searched but could not find the meower. The next day, she heard it again, and asked the owner of the woodpile if she could search it, and finally found a tiny, tiny kitten abandoned and trapped behind the pile. She took it to her daughter's house and they tried feeding it milk with an eye dropper, since it was too tiny to lap milk, and then then called a vet tech friend of theirs who told them it needed cat milk replacer, not cow's milk, or it would get scour and die.
Animal Lover Rita is just about at her wit's end over this little mite. I'm so glad she didn't have it with her; if I had seen it, that probably would have been the end of my resolve. But I am not volunteering to eye dropper feed a tiny, starving kitten. Is that terrible?