Today was a tough day. I tried to feed a 7-day-old kitten who hasn’t been nursing well, and it didn’t go the way I hoped. The little one was weak and uninterested in the bottle. I gently warmed the milk, held the kitten in a comfortable position, and even used a dropper to be extra careful. But still—no luck. The kitten barely opened its mouth, and each drop felt like a struggle.
Meanwhile, the mother cat sat close by, eyes fixed on every move I made. She looked anxious, and I could feel her worry. Her ears twitched every time the kitten let out a tiny cry. She even reached out her paw once, almost like she wanted to help. But she couldn’t. Her milk had dried up a few days ago, and that’s why I had to step in.
“Come on, little one,” I whispered, gently tapping the bottle. “Just a little.” But the kitten turned away again. The clock ticked, and with each passing minute, the tension grew. I glanced at the mom cat—she meowed softly, as if asking, Is my baby going to be okay?
I paused and held the kitten close to my chest to keep it warm. Sometimes, that warmth helps stimulate feeding, but even then, the baby didn’t respond. I knew I had to try again later, but in that moment, it felt like I was failing.
The mom cat laid down next to me and the kitten, quietly watching. She looked so helpless, yet full of hope. It was heartbreaking. I stroked her head gently and whispered, “I’m trying, Mama. I really am.”
The subtitles of this moment?
[Me]: “Please eat, baby… we need you to try.”
[Mom Cat]: “Why can’t I help my kitten? Please don’t give up.”
It wasn’t a successful feeding today—but tomorrow is another chance. And neither of us is giving up.
