This morning I took Gretchen down to the river. She likes to wade out in the river not quite to the current and splash around and just be a dog. As usual, there was all sorts of garbage strewn around the shore. Gretchen left her pursuit of chasing fish and started nosing a plastic garbage bag (black one) and whining. It was stuck on some submerged logs and she pulled it free and dragged it onshore.

I figured it had food or fish inside of it and went over to take it away from her. It started to move, so I put her on a stay sit and gingerly opened the bag.

Inside was a tiny white kitten! He was bedraggled, and shivering, he is about 5 weeks old. I rushed him to the vet where they gave him a rubdown, some fluids and he scarfed up some kitten food warmed up in the microwave. Poor baby! He is now snuggled down in the bedroom with Fiona (my long-hair calico) and she has taken an instant liking to him.

He is suffering from shock, dehydration, URI and god knows what else, but he is no longer a piece of flotsam on the shore!

What the frick is wrong with people? How can they just toss a tiny life to the elements and not think of the consequences beyond that? I named him Lake and hope he survives the horror of near drowning and being inside a plastic bag.

So much for no more rescue. Sometimes, God just yanks that option right out from under me.