Radar

I started fostering little abandoned kitties at the start of the year.
My very first was Radar. He turned up on our clinic doorstep in an ice cream container about 5 days old, mewing his little head off.
He was also coincidentally found in a garage.
So I took the little ball of fuzz (I had been so good, I had resisted taking home kitties for a year!) and took him home and commenced 4 hourly feeding through the night.
That very first morning I had to do the dreaded walk over to where he was sleeping to see if he had survived the night (all his other littermates had not survived).
I peeled away the blankets to see a little wriggling fuzzball. He was alive!!!!

So a week after waking up during the night to feed him he began to open his eyes.

They kinda look creepy when they are half open like that. But don't worry, I assure you he gets much cuter.

Here he is at 3 weeks of age:

Radar was still pretty convinced that milk came from my hand. "What!! Milk comes from a nipple!!!!? Don't be preposterous!!!, Get out of here you scoundrel!!!" I totally imagined some fat 1800's fancy lord saying that.

We shall call him "the Duke".

Anyway here is Radar macking out on my hand

NOM

Mmmm, sooo goood. Non existent milk is the best.

Four weeks old

Now you will see why I called him Radar.
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 HIS GINORMOUS EARS

And here he is after a dry off. :3

Ok so I can't really think of how best to caption/narrate the following pictures so... blaaahh...

He's 7 weeks old here

 10 weeks old:

 BEST. PICTURE. EVER

 I brought home little Lola who was found hypothermic in a ditch, which (by the time she had recovered) was Radar's new play toy. Poor Lola

 

 

 

Now both Radar and Lola have gone to loving forever homes and I just have Fizz, helping me write blogs by licking the inside of my ear. Heeebie jeebies