The mother abandoned him overnight in the middled of the kennel. I found him by himself when I woke up this morning. I tried as best I could to get him to nurse, but it wasn't working.
I have kept him in a basket with me most of the day. He spent a little time with his mom and sibling, but both times I found him exactly where I left him. He was making no effort to nurse, and she was making no effort to encourage him.
The bottle feeding started first thing this morning, but I'm not having much success. I've probably bathed him in just as much food as I've gotten into his tiny belly.
He weighs 3.7 ounces. He sleeps deeply. He had the hiccups for a little while. He's breathing slowly.
The dog, John Adams, wants so much to mother him. He gets as close as he can, nudges him with his snout, and whines when I move him to another room.
I don't know what will become of the abandoned one, but for now he appears comfortable and is experiencing love. Somehow it is both the least and the most I can do.
UPDATE: The kitten died later that night. His brother is the only survivor of the litter, but is thriving.
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