A tiny, flea-infested kitten was found on the street, curled up against the curb. It was given to an animal welfare group who hoped to find a foster home for him. When I saw him, I knew I had to bring him home. No one was sure he would make it so I wanted to give him a name that would encourage him to fight for his little life. I named him Thor, after the Norse god of thunder, storms, lightening and strength. He was so fragile and weak. I gave him bath after bath in warm water with Dawn detergent as instructed by the rescue group until finally he was free of fleas. I kept him with me, holding him under my sweater, next to my breast to keep him warm. I bottle fed him KMR and saw him eat a little more each time. He made it through that first night and the next and the next. The first time he purred I cried because I knew he was going to make it.
Thor has grown into a beautiful Snowshoe cat. He is living the good life in LA with my daughter and her other cat, Layla, also a former foster. This photo of Thor was taken on the day he first purred.