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The year 2013 was very difficult for my family. My father had passed away at the age of 60 due to cancer, my husband was in Afghanistan, and both of my grandmothers were not doing well. All of this by the end of June.

On July 1, 2013, my friend knocked on my front door late at night. She was carrying a five-gallon plastic bucket and asking for help. That's when I heard the smallest of mews coming from the bucket, and there was more than one.

She explained that one of her friends had found a cat in the road that had been run over. The poor thing didn't make it. The kittens were found several hours later after a rain storm. There were four of them, two white and two gray and white. I had to take them in.

I did everything I could to help those kittens. Constant feedings and cleanings, staying up all night, and arranging for kitten sitters when I needed to go out or take a break. It reminded me of when my human babies were born, and I loved every minute of it.

I was determined not to get attached to the babies, but I did. We named them by accident. One of the kittens was always the first one to the bottle and refused to give it up. I said he was a little glut, and the name stuck. We named his siblings Sloth, Wrath, and Greed.

Unfortunately because they were only three days old when I took them in, they weren't very strong. We ended up losing Sloth, Wrath, and Greed to a respiratory illness, but we saved Gluttony.

He is the most loving and hysterical kitty I've ever had. He talks, loves snuggles, and plays with our other two cats. He greets me at the door every time I come home and gives me kisses. Everybody that meets him loves him. He is the best and turned around a bad year. He makes me smile everyday.

Story submitted by Misty from Glenpool, Oklahoma.

This story was originally shared on The Animal Rescue Site. Share your very own rescue story here!