The call came a little before midnight.

Rarely a good thing.

Yes, I was awake. Eldest son was a little taken aback when I answered so quickly.

He wants to know what to feed a kitten.

My first question is, why isn't the mother feeding this kitten? Wild or domestic, it's rare that humans can do better than what the natural mother can.

Turns out this blind little black bundle tumbled into their back yard. Somehow negotiating two fences and all the years of debris that built up in between. The mother is a semi-feral cat belonging to the man who lives behind them. They suspect he doesn't even know she has a litter of kittens.

And midnight is not the time to knock and ask.

My suggestion is to shove the little feline back through the fence and hope for the best.

But no, eldest son and his girlfriend won't do that. So I suggest diluted concentrated milk for the night.

The next day they insert the still alive and mewing kitten back into the nest with its siblings.

And the mother boots her out.

Yeah. Too late. The bonding is gone.

They have a kitten, now.

Which is not all bad. They've been planning on getting a kitten to keep the corgi company. Just wanted to wait until after the move was complete.

This is a matter of inconvenient timing, nothing more.

They stopped by last night, en route to another weekend of cleaning and painting at their new home. The tiny, 76.8 gram black, two-week old kitten being carried in a Girl Scout cookie box.

She was on kitten formula, now. But taking in less than the vet recommended. And, despite repeated wipings with wet towels, apparently plugged at the other end.

The joys of motherhood.

The heelers really, really wanted to get at what was in that box.

The corgi, who grew up with cats, wondered what the fuss was all about.

And the wife presented them with the new cat bed for their new addition.

She joined them this morning, for the weekend of house prepping. Leaving me home alone again with the three canids. Yes, I'm running a corgi daycare again. Which is fine. She's a joy. We'll miss her when she's 90-some miles away.

The call came a little before noon.

The kitten died. Despite another vet visit in University Town, and a rapid trip for medicine. She passed while they were in the store.

The wife called again, just a little bit ago. They're coming home. Just too hard to go on pretending to work when the newest member of the clan is laying there dead in a box.

She'll be buried by the heeler mom. She was raised with cats, so she shouldn't mind.

The kitten's name was Saya.