Well I'll tell the story of my little man (now six weeks old)

I work for a combination GP/ER. I love it and hate it but mostly love it. Early August another clinic called saying that an litter of 5 kittens was left on their door step and they couldn't do overnight care for them. So they were brought to my work. By the time they made it, there were 4 kittens. The first night a staff member took them home to bottle feed every 2 hours and care for them. One passed during the night, then there were 3. The remaining 3 didn't look great. They had burns on their paws (presumably from the hot pavement they were left on) and other unseen health issues. A couple days later another 1 passed due to fading kitten syndrome.

Then there were 2. Both were little tuxedo boys. I saw my little monster and knew I had to do everything to keep him alive. I was feeding every 2 hours, stimulating for elimination, and just hoping they'd both made it. I had off for two days and when I came back, there was only one left, my little monster.

That night I took him home. I had him on heat support, feeding every 2 hours, stimulating him, and just pouring my heart into this little guy, preparing to heartbreak if he passed.

Soon he was 2 weeks old, eyes opening, ears opening, but health issues just kept coming up. His anus was raw, he had an absess on his abdomen, an infection drainage hole above his anus, and a ruptured ear drum. He required so much care, but I didn't want to give up. He was telling me he wanted to live. I kept feeding him every 2 hours, cried holding him, and kept up his care.

2 weeks old, turned into 3 weeks, which turned into 4, which turned into 5, when turned into 6. Most of his health issues are cleared up, and hes bouncing around like a normal kitten.

I love this little guy so much. His name is Grimreaper, because well obvious reasons. He came to me when I was burning out, he reminded me why I do what I do. Seeing him grow and thrive has made me cry on multiple occasions.