Thursday night, June 21, 2001, I was able to get the little red kitten with the messed up face. If he was a boy, I had his name all lined up. He would be my little Opie. Friday morning, I took him into the vet and dropped him off to be tested and to have his eye checked out.
I had my little boy and the eye wasn't damaged from being chased by a dog or something like that, but because he had an infection in his eye and it itched and he scraped up his little cheek rubbing at his eye. With time and medication, his eye got better.
Opie was also a very friendly little guy, he took to me quickly. He hissed a the vet, put up a little fight when his blood was drawn. But other than that, he seemed to do okay. At this time we hadn't decided what to do with the kittens and I knew that my heart would break if we had to give them up.