About five years ago, my cousin rescued two kittens he found on the street. The first one was tiny, and they adopted her right away. The second one, who was older, about three or four months old, was being put up for adoption. Of course, they were taking care of him and all, but I kept posting about him. However, he didn't find a home anywhere until he turned six months old. My aunt had him neutered, and they decided to keep him since they had grown accustomed to him.

This photo was taken a few days after he arrived from the rescue. He was so cute and let me pick him up. Well, he's still kind of like that now, but he's a huge chubby kitten and I'm amazed at how much he's changed. It makes me laugh because I gave my cousin a kennel—a small one, but at least it would help him in emergencies—and about two weeks ago, my aunt was taking this same kitten to the vet for urinary problems and other issues that, thank God, he ended up getting better. The funny thing about it all is that at first he hated that kennel. He didn't like it because, for his size, it was a tight fit. Even so, my aunt told me that he likes to sleep in it. He's claimed the kennel as his own; he doesn't want anyone else to use it. I mean, I practically gave it to him! 🤣 Isn't that something?

The amazing thing about all this is that my aunt used to criticize me for having too many dogs. At most, I've had up to four; more than that, no. Actually, my limit is two or three, and I know that from experience. But now she has six cats, plus others she adopted from neighbors. They come, eat, and sleep at her house, and of course, there are no complaints. Some people say dogs smell worse, but if she only knew I clean mine more than I do! Although, well, I'm glad these defenseless creatures found good homes and have been healthy, all things considered.