Growing into the litter box
I met her in the parking lot of a hospital where the cargo was deposited on the front seat. The "cargo" was a pitiful, skraggly kitten with the sharpest claws of any creature I've ever known. I called him Ditch Kitty. Off to the vet we went.
Seems this scrawny kitten was relatively healthy despite his bad days of entanglement in the phragmites. The biggest problem? Well, two problems actually. One is that he was so small I had to cut a door in the side of his litter box. The other? The vet assistant wouldn't let me officially name him Ditch Kitty. Ditch Kitty is thus dubbed Deeky.
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