Grover

Grover is a whole different story. I got her April 4, 2003, when my daughter brought her home to me from school. She had rescued her out of a trashcan at the vocational school, the mechanics part. She said she went in and seen her lying in the trashcan and picked her up to see if she was still alive. She was still breathing, she found out the boys had found this tiny little kitten in one of the old cars parked at the school. I don’t know if the mother had been in the process of moving her kittens and the boys found her before she got back to get this tiny little kitten. Anyway, the boys brought her in, and decided to play football with her. One boy there said they were kicking her so hard she was actually flying across the room like a ball. Finally, after they had played with her like that for a time, one of the boys figured she was dead and threw her into the trash.

I guess it was just pure luck that Lindsey happen to come over to the vocational school. She found her and put her in a tissue box, and then put that into another box. When my daughter got her out of the trashcan, her and a friend took her to a bathroom and cleaned her up, washed the blood from her nose and the grease off her body. My daughter had to argue with the teachers to let her bring that little kitten into class with her.

I will never forget when she got out of the truck, she was carrying a box, and I told my husband I wonder what she has now. I kind of figured it was a kitten, because she had wanted to get me one for a good while. I never dreamed she was going to bring such a tiny little kitten home. Little Grover had just got her eyes open, and was just crawling. I knew nothing about raising such a young kitten. I tried to look up some homemade formulas on the Internet, but the articles kept telling me that I would do better to buy the orphaned kittens milk. That is what I raised her on, plus putting the baby food meat into her formula, as she got a little older. She never once go diarrhea, she done so well on what I was feeding her. Of course, I worried all the time that I would lose her. To make Matters worse, I fell one night and broke my foot, and it was really a struggle to go to the kitchen and mix her food. I was not very good on crutches.

That is just a small part of Grover’s story; this is just a short version.