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My little rescued kitten, Calypso, is now a happy, healthy eleven-week-old bundle of love and fun. She is just beautiful! Her big jade-green eyes are so unusual, and she has the softest fur. She runs to me every night when I get home, rubbing her little nose into my neck, purring loudly. I have never seen any cat so ecstatic to see me.

Well, except maybe her brothers and sister....

Calypso is one of a litter of four born to one of the feral cats who were residing in the sump area next door to my office. When they were three days old, the mother decided to move the kittens. But she forgot one, and hence, I adopted the tiny baby, and I named her Calypso. I bottle-fed her, took her nearly everywhere I went, and watched with joy as she thrived. But I always felt sad that I had been unable to do anything to help the three other kittens. Weeks passed with no sign of them, and I despaired that chances for their survival were bleak. I have had to dispose of dead kitties before; such is life in a feral colony. And then one day, I went outside to feed the ferals, and I was greeted by a tiny black-and-white fluffball stuck to the chainlink fence out back. The poor baby was terrified; she had climbed up the fence but did not know how to get back down, and she was mewing pitifully. When I approached her, she spat at me in fear, sounding more cute than threatening. I recognized her as one of Calypso's three litter-mates. After I helped her get four paws safely on the ground, I watched as she ran for the relative safety of the hedges, where the mother and other two kittens joined her, a white one and a coal black one. I noticed that the kittens were pitifully thin, and I resolved to rescue them. A friend helped me catch the kittens the next day, and I took them home to be reunited with their pampered sister.

Upon closer inspection of the kittens, I discovered that they were horribly infested with fleas, and the black one had a bad eye infection. They were all much too thin, and I was surprised to see that Calypso was notably larger than her siblings. They were otherwise healthy, though, and each possessed of a ravenous appetite. It took a week to dispel the flea infestation and infection before I could bring them in the house, but upon reintroducing them to Calypso, it was as though they had never been separated.

Now, it is as though they were different kittens. Whereas they were terrified when I first brought them home, they are now loving, playful little things who take great joy in tearing all over our bedroom and bathroom. Upon my arrival home from work, I am greeted by four little racers crashing into one another in an effort to get to me first. Excited meows drift through the house as soon as I open the back door. I find I cannot wait to get home. It is wonderful to be loved!

We had four cats already before they joined our household. There is no question of my keeping Calypso; I know without doubt that I can never give her up. But the others are up for adoption: Comet, a little cream-colored boy with Siamese-like markings; Cody, the jet-black boy who is still a bit shy; and little Lily, the smallest of the litter, the fluffy little girl whom I first saw stuck to a fence. Alas, I cannot keep all of them. That doesn't mean, however, that I won't lose a piece of my heart when they go.