The first thing little Twitch wants you to know, is HE is a HE, not a SHE!! And, he's a BIG BOY now, not the sickly, little abandoned kitten he once was, oh-so-many weeks ago...way back in May!!!

We did the "right" thing, we said yes to our friends when they needed help with a kitten rescue, but they had it all wrong!! The fragile, barely alive kitten was merely a week old at the time she handed him over to us, not 3 weeks like they stated during the phone call asking for our help! Surely had we known he was only a week old, we may have turned down her request and she would have been "stuck" with this needy little guy!

Not only was he merely a week old, he was and IS NOT a girl! Therefore, the name "Gypsy" was not fitting for our hungry, fragile, needy, did I say needy, guy?? Of course he needed help, he could barely swallow, let alone suck from a bottle. We started out with a syringe because he had no clue how to suckle. After two days of "forced" feeding, and endless strokes of encouragement, he finally began to accept a soft nippled bottle and grew pleasantly surprised at what happened with a little effort on his end and a firm squeeze on my end. Warm milk is yummy stuff and he was beginning to accept that fact.

He was so frail, without constant care and the desire to live (the will he carried inside his teeny kitty soul), he could have easily succumbed. He opted for life and as a little fighter, he was not willing to give up even one of his kitty cat lives!! Every two hours, around the clock, for two entire weeks, he cried for that milk, but mostly for the comfort of that soft, warm nipple!

I cut up sweatshirt legs and arms, fuzzy socks and knit caps, slipped his body inside and cradled him like a little papoose. He seemed to find comfort in the safe haven and would settle down long enough to suckle until his little peepers would close tight. In his slumber he began to purr, soft kitty cat purrs. It was at that time, I knew he would be alright, he would survive. If I did not wrap him securely, he wiggled, squirmed, cried and clawed until I did. Seems his insecurity without the wrap consumed him. And, if I had to cut up sweats, socks and hats to help him through, so be it, we can always buy more clothing!!

Our little guy had several health issues that cropped up and somehow his body was able to fight them off and heal! Without a mama to take care of his digestive needs, his bottom swelled and became red, irritated and inflamed. His piercing blue eyes became infected, and his tiny little nostrils began to seal shut. Lots of warm washcloth rubs, peroxide, eye drops and endless TLC, he got through it all!

Just as any nursing mother feels, at one time or another, the days and nights were long and I began to grow weary after the 14th day. And as soon as it had begun, it was over. The around the clock care spread farther out, he began taking little kitty cat sips from miniature bowls and even accepted softened morsels of dry cat food. He wanted to be a big boy, and was working very hard to become one!

And BIG BOY he became! Again, incorrect information our friends shared with us, he was not a girl and did not want a "sissy" girl name! So at about three weeks of age, we completed the "name change" process. Ok, not a legal name change, no documents filed, no court house visits, but Twitch gladly accepted the gender acknowledgement and loves his new name, with or without documents! :-) During the two weeks of constant bottle feeding, his little ears were never still a moment, as he sucked down the milk, they twitched to and fro....thus the name Twitch.

The bottle feeding continued for another three weeks or so, and then, just as our children do right before our very eyes, Twitch grew up!!! He transitioned to a bowl, no more baby bottles for such a big boy and he now proudly sits, side be side, nibbling with the "grown up" cats.

Trooper, our farm mouser, has happily taken him under wing. Sure, Twitch has not caught a mouse yet, but he's seen it done and follows Trooper's every move as he hunts this GIANT prey. Oh sure, to Trooper they are little field mice, but Twitch knows they are huge predators to be leery of, at least for now! Today Twitch weighs a whopping pound and the entire world, our farm, looks quite different on a daily basis. No more baby bottles, no more cozy little wraps, no more special pampering. He's a farm mouser in training and darn proud of that BIG BOY title!!!

Regardless, if he was a HE or a SHE, one week or three weeks, sick or well, Twitch is a survivor and is growing stronger each and every day! In this, we were also reminded that sometimes NOT knowing all the details in life is better and reaching out with love in your heart, is the thing that really matters~~