I lost one of the kittens last night. Second from the left, looking up at the camera, is the one of the bunch who let me hold him. He had gotten to where he would come up to me and rub on my legs and we'd play a bit when I went out to feed them. He was a sweetie and I was really hoping to find him an indoor home. But, it wasn't to be. I found him lying in the grass this morning. There was a small wound on the back of his neck, and we figure a dog probably got hold of him. (You know how they shake things like that.) I have seen a coyote not far from my house, but if that had been what got him, it probably would have taken him off.
The other kittens are a bit more skittish now, which is understandable. After my pet sitting appointment this morning, I came home and buried the little guy in my front yard. As I was digging, the others came out from under my porch. They sat near and watched me until I was done. Almost like they were saying goodbye themselves. I think they will probably move over here now as they can go up under my porch where there is a small opening that leads into my basement. Much safer area.
I wish I could handle things like this better. A part of me wishes I didn't get so attached so easily. I'm second guessing myself when it comes to how I've been dealing with these guys now, and I'm really tired of crying over animals like this. (If more people would take care of their own pets, this type of thing wouldn't happen so often.)
At least I know the little guy was pretty happy. He and his siblings were over here on our porch late last night and I held and played with him. He had the loudest purr I've ever heard on a kitten. I'll never forget that, or him.