Lyzzi
Jogging around the block
I was coming home from a walk, and was passing a local burger joint when I heard that tell-tale cry of a tiny kitten. I paused, and went to follow the sound. He was in the parking lot: little bitty orange puffball. Maybe three weeks old. He ran right upto me as fast as his stumpy legs could, screaming. I picked him up, looked around, asked the kids working the stand.. And then took him home. He chugged two bottles last night. We just got back from a vet-checkup this morning, and she confirmed my angry fears: no fleas, no parasites. He was someone's house-raised kitten that they dumped.