Poor Vixen

I took Vixen to the vet this afternoon for another round of her kitten shots. They make her feel so bad. Poor baby. She is curled up and asleep beside me right now. One thing that surprised me was that the vet has determined that she is not quite old enough for the rabies shot. She could tell by the number of adult teeth that Vixen has. Which means that she was even younger than we thought when Bruce found her. The vet now speculates that she probably wasn't more than a month old. Not really old enough to be away from her mother. Its a miracle that she survived. She was so starved that she ate solid food anyway. I keep wondering just how in the world such a tiny little cat came to be out there in the middle of nowhere all by herself. She had clearly been there for a while, because she was nothing but a little bag of bones.

Anyway, she is one lucky little kitty. She didn't think so on the way to the vet's office today (she hated the pet carrier AND the ride in the car). But she's healthy and growing fast. We go back in a couple of weeks for the rabies shot. They feel like she will be old enough by then. Maybe I can get Bruce to take her this time, so I won't always have to be the bad guy. It broke my heart to hear her pitiful meow's and see her reaching out of the carrier with her little paws. She did that the whole way to and from the vet, like she was reaching out for me to save her. We are both glad to be back home again.