Congrats! What a milestone!

My boys and I rescue severely abused and burned pets. My youngest son bonded hard with a tiny polydactyl kitten. She was two weeks old when we rescued her, and amongst other things she had been painted head to toe in several layers house paint, which had of course dried.

After she survived her medical issues my son Nik decided she was going to be his permanent kitty. Which was kindof a given as she followed him everywhere, even into the shower.

It was time to adjust her to sleeping in his room. Being so tiny for her age, I was frightened he would roll over on her in his sleep. So, I did the proverbial Mama thing and checked on her throughout the night. Every two hours.

Ok, Ok, it was more like every twenty minutes, but who's counting.

I would steal quietly into Niks room and use my phone as a light to ensure she was still in the little bed we had fashioned beside his. She would open her eyes and beacon me with her tiny purr, and of course my heart would melt and I would have a hard time stopping cuddling her.

She grew quickly and my checkups became less frequent, down to one a night.

I decided this was to be my last night and I crept into the bedroom. I had grown accustomed to navigating my pre-teen sons room obstacles so walked through without the aid of my phone. I placed my hand on her and my heart stopped. She felt wrong. Warm but... gooey. Very wrong. I rushed to turn on the light. And there, in the kittens bed, was part of a honeyed biscuit. Remnants from that nights KFC dinner.

And there, on the bed, were Nik and the kitten. Cheek to cheek on his pillow. With matching wide, guilty eyes and their faces covered in biscuit crumbs.

We named the kitten Biscuit.