Felix was hardly 2 weeks old when I'd found him.
I saw him and his tiny sister huddles together on top of a 4 foot stone wall while I was parking my bike outside college. They were still there when I came back 7 hours later. I waited there for almost an hour to see if their mother would show up, but she didn't. I'm also not quite sure how they ended up on a wall because they couldn't have climbed it and the mother wouldn't leave them on a wall.
They were alone, out in the open and weak, very weak. So I took off my scarf, wrapped them up in it and put them in the spare helmet.
I attached the helmet to the belt thingy of my jeans, held it between my legs and headed home. I also picked up a box of cat formula and a 12 pack ot syringes on my way home.
Felix was a beautiful little orange cats and had markings on his head that looked like a dragon's head. He had the prettiest green eyes (they weren't completely open when I'd found him). Jesse, his sister, was a solid black and had grey eyes, unfortunately, she didn't make it through the night.
My own kitten, Penelope, was about 4 months old at that time and she loved Felix. They'd play for hours on end (she took only 2 days to get used to him, only hissed once and never growled). She was also probably the one who missed him the most after we gave him away after 6 weeks of fostering him.
This morning I received a call that Felix had been in an accident. He was crushed by a car.
He was 6 months old.