In September 2000, we were on holiday on one of the islands in the north of the Netherlands, called Ameland. As always when on holiday, we took the dogs with us. During our last walk in the dunes before leaving for home again, we spotted something black and white in the shrubbery, far away from 'civilisation'. Approaching we discovered that the black/white something, was a little kitten. The kitten was very weak and thin. I could pick it up easily. I wrapped it in my sweater and took it home, to the cottage, we'd rented on Ameland. We had no catfood in the house so I gave the kitten some custard. Mickey (the name I gave him) was so weak he drank the custard while his little head lay in the fluid. In an empty box I made a bed for him and I placed the box in the sun. Mickey started purring....
In the afternoon
we went home. I had called our vet to make an appointment, to
have Mickey thoroughly checked, as soon as we arrived home. That was
ok. Mickey was thoroughly examined, and we were told that Mickey was
about eight weeks old, very weak and very sick. The next day I went
to the chemist's to fetch a syringe to forcefeed Mickey and to make
sure he took enough fluids. He seemed to perk up. He even liked the
dogs and the dogs liked him! He purred at the sight of them and wound
himself around their legs. On Fridaynight, three days later, I put him
in his basket, he purred and went to sleep. The next morning I found
him in the same position as I put him to sleep the night before, but
he was dead. But Mickey had made me a cat lover during the three short
days he'd been there with us and I had seen how wonderful he and the
dogs did get on..